Marc Maron: Thinky Pain (2013) - full transcript

Marc Maron returns to his old stomping grounds for an intimate special in which he takes stock of himself. More than ever, Maron is raw and hilariously honest as he dissects his own neuroses and self-loathing while providing outrageous anecdotes from his personal life, in which he starts to realize the hurt isn't real, it's just "Thinky Pain."

[siren wailing]

- I don't know what
you were thinking.

- Like, I'm not nervous, really.

All I'm thinking is--I think
it looks good out there.

I think I've got--
it was a good choice

to do it in that small venue.

I didn't want a theater,

because that doesn't seem to be
where you do comedy,

running back and forth,

trying to be larger
than you really are.

But now I'm starting to think
maybe it's just all done



out of complete fear.

Like, why not just have
12 people

and shoot it very tightly

and then err on the side
of performance art

if things don't work out
the way I want it to?

- You're at a nice place now

where you can have more
than 12 people.

- There's, like, 70.
Maybe 100.

150.
I don't know.

My stomach hurts.
Badly.

And I've been nauseous all day.

I think I should be happy
about all this, though, right?

- This is exciting.
This is the best.

Oh, my God.



This is--for you,
this is such a big year.

Think of what you would have
done to have this year

ten years ago.

- Oh, I would have ruined it
at the beginning of it.

- But if somebody would have
laid out--

it's like, "Here's the year
you could have.

What would you do
for that year?"

- I often think about that.

If I would have gotten
the opportunities I have now

when I was 20,
there's no way.

I was not--like, that's one
of the great ways to alleviate

any sort of bitterness you have
in your life,

is to really be honest
with yourself and think,

"Could I have handled this
then?"

There'd be no way.

There'd be no way
I could have handled it.

I would have ruined it.

People would have been
disappointed.

That could still happen.

Tonight it could still happen.

- But isn't that the best part
of it, in a way,

knowing that it's yours to--

you could press the button
any time you want--

- And just fuck it up?

- Blow it all up again.

You'd be all the way back
at the beginning.

- Yeah.

The stakes are higher
if you blow it further along.

- No, this would be the worst
you could do right now.

- This is the best pep talk
I've ever had.

- Because it's finally lined up,
everything.

- Everything's about to happen.
- Exactly.

- But that's another benefit
of the small audience.

Like, so the disaster,
it's limited.

Only a certain number of people
could tweet

that it's going bad
during the show.

"Maron not quite getting over."

- #MaronFail.

- [laughs]

That's a good way to start.

You ready to go?
We ready to go?

Want to go do it?
You want to bring me onstage?

- Yeah, sure.

- Can you believe we just
did that?

Like, this is how we prepared
for me to go onstage?

That this is it?

- You squeezed in
a small podcast.

- I squeezed in a small...

- All right.
- Oh, my goodness.

I feel the presence of alcohol.

[indistinct chatter]

[cheers and applause]

- All right.

Everybody, let's welcome
to the stage

our friend Marc Maron!

[cheers and applause]

- Thank you.

Thank you so much.

Thank you for coming.

I don't know if you know this,

but you're in
the basement showroom

of the historic Village Gate,

which was a big venue
upstairs and down here

that I used to do comedy in
when I was a child.

Why am I bringing this up?

Because some part of me wants to
glean some meaning out of that,

that I was upstairs--
they used to have a show.

I know what I could do.

There was a Bill Hicks story.

I didn't prepare.
Did you want me to prepare?

Upstairs, back in the late '80s,
they had a show--

the Village Gate, they used
to all the old jazz shows,

and it was, like,
a historic place.

But by the late '80s,
early '90s,

it was kind of decrepit
but cool.

And they had a showroom
up there,

seated about 400 people.

And on weekends they'd do
a comedy show there,

and the structure of the show
was, they had a host,

and then they had two comics
doing 15 minutes apiece,

and an improv group.

Now, this is a story about
Bill Hicks.

So there was a briefly a time

where Bill Hicks lived
in New York City.

He wasn't received well,

'cause New Yorkers
don't understand anger.

Like, they understand it,

but they don't understand
why it's onstage.

It was so amazing to watch Bill
perform in New York,

'cause literally the audience
would be like,

"What's he so mad about?"

You know, "He seems angry
about something.

Isn't life hard enough?"

But, like, I remember the night

because the comics
were me and Hicks,

and it didn't matter,
it was interchangeable,

but he had already done a few
Lettermans,

and he was Hicks,
so even if he did badly,

there was going to need to be
some reconstruction,

audience-wise, you know?

So I remember,
I walked up to him.

I went, "Hey, Bill, you know,

"you got the Lettermans
and stuff.

"I'm just starting out.

You know, could I go first?"

'Cause he was supposed
to go first.

And he was like, "No, man.

I got to meet a guy
to play chess."

I'm like, "I don't even know
what that means,

but it seems important."

So I'm like, "All right, well,

I guess
I'll just follow you, then."

And then I remember going
to the bathroom,

this was upstairs,

so I go to the bathroom,

and Hicks was--he went onstage,
I go to the bathroom.

I don't know what happened
while I was in the bathroom,

but when I got out
of the bathroom,

there was 400 people
in this room,

and nobody's laughing,
no one's saying anything.

There is a silence in the room
of 400

that has a suction to it.

It's like, "Oh, my God.

"There's actually sound being
sucked out of the room

by an audience
that is in shock,"

because Bill Hicks is at the lip
of the stage,

screaming at a woman,

like, right where you are.

And he's going,
"I'm a fucking poet!

I'm a fucking poet!"

And he stands up, and there's
nothing but silence.

And I'm standing there like,
"What is happening?"

And then in the sweetest voice,
this woman goes,

"Tell us a poem, then."

So what's happening?

What do you want to talk about?

You want to do the act or--
I don't know.

Let's not.

Let's just work
through some stuff.

I had a weird thing happen.

Like, there is something to be
said about doing a lot of drugs

at some point in your life.

I personally don't have a lot
of respect

for people that don't have
the courage

to lose complete control
of their life for a few years.

You know, right down
the fucking hole.

You know, like, "What happened?"

"I don't know.

"I know it's time
I'm not getting back.

"I'd like to think I did
some good writing,

"but there's no real evidence
of it.

"Just random pieces of paper

"and something I have finished,

but I was in it, you know?"

But, no, there is something
to be learned

from drug experiences,

especially if you go out there,
right, bro?

Yeah.
So...

What the point is,
I went and ate

this Chinese food
the other night,

and it seems disconnected,

but I went to this Chinese
restaurant in San Francisco,

and there was, like--

I'm not a big Chinese food guy,

but this was like this,
you know,

kind of nouveau cool
Chinese place,

and I ate pastrami kung pao.

That's crazy, right?

Just chunks of fatty meat
with, you know, salt

and more salted things.

And then there was the--

I think it was just called
lamb fat curry,

which was just lamb fat
and curry

and some other vegetables.

And then there was
these tiki pork bellies.

I'm not sure when it became
okay to eat that shit,

'cause, I mean,
it's not even bacon.

Didn't they used throw
that part away, pork belly?

But now it's like,
"This is great."

So there were these two pieces
of pork belly that were just--

I don't even know if they were
deep-fried or what.

There were chopsticks,
and they were squares,

and there was no way
to eat them,

other then to pick them up
and just bite them,

and they were just sort of
warm gelled fat

with crispy outsides.

The point I'm making is,
I ate all this shit,

and I got in the car
with my friend Jack,

and I'm sitting there,

and my hand went numb.

Like, literally 20 minutes
after I ate that,

I'm like, "My hand's tingling.
I can't feel it."

But because
of my drug experience,

I'm like, "I'm just gonna
ride it out."

You know what I mean?
It's probably gonna go away.

If it doesn't, like, maybe my
whole right side

will go numb, you know?

[slurring]
And have to talk like this.

But right now we'll see
what happens.

I wouldn't have had that wisdom

without years of laying in bed
on coke,

going, "Please not now.
Not now.

Just ride this out."

I am still alive.
That's amazing.

It's all amazing.

I'm happy to say that I'm having
a reasonable midlife crisis.

You know, I bought a--
I buy records,

and I bought a tube amp.

I'm not gonna drive it
into a wall.

You know, I'm not gonna get in
trouble for fucking it.

But it was weird.

Like, what sort of inspired it
is, I had these records,

and there weren't even
that many records.

There was about 300 records
that I had,

and I had 'em since high school.

I don't know, I mean, I'm 49,

so, like, when you go through
the records that you--

you stop buying them
at some point,

right around when CDs came out.

I don't even know when that was.

In the late '80s maybe?

But you can go through
your whole life

with these records
that you have.

Like, I could see, like,

okay, I was trying to,
you know, relate

to the townies I grew up with.

Here's some Skynyrd,
some Bad Company.

Had to do that.

And then at some point,
you know, like,

"Oh, that's where I met
the guy in college."

All right, so...

then all of a sudden
you're like,

"There's a lot of Bowie
and some Eno and some Fripp.

"And then there's, like--
oh, there's college.

There's OMD and"--

I was a little confused, and...

I go through a little gray area
there with who you were,

and then you sort of move into
jazz and other stuff.

But I got this tube amp.

The story of the tube amp
is essentially--

you know, a tube amp is what
you play records through

if you want it to be pure,

you know, pure tube sound.

Just like, from the record
to the speaker,

no fucking with it.

So I interviewed Jack White.

I'm not dropping names.
It happened.

So I interview Jack White,

and I go down to his place,
right?

And in his studio office,
he's got a wall

of McIntosh tube amps,
all right?

These are the best--
American-made, beautiful, right?

And I've always been fascinated
with them,

and I'm like, "He's got, like,
15 of them,"

so in my mind I'm like,

"If he's got 15,
I could afford one, right?"

So I get back to L.A.,

and I immediately go price
McIntosh amps.

I go into one place, and I'm
like, "That's the one I want.

I said,
"Jack White has those, man.

How much is that one?"

The guy goes, "$14,000."

And, look, I could have put it
on my credit card,

but the truth of the matter is,

if you don't have $14,000
to comfortably throw away

on a fucking tube amp,

there's no way you're gonna
enjoy music through that thing.

If I would have bought
that thing,

every record I put on,

I'd be sitting there going,

"Uh, this doesn't sound like
$14,000.

"Maybe I move this knob.

No, it still doesn't sound
like $14,000."

And then eventually you'd go
over to some other guy's house,

and he just had a cheap setup

and you'd listen
to the same record

and it'd sound perfect,

and you just sit there going,
"I'm a fucking idiot."

So I found a more
reasonably priced tube amp,

and then I decided,
now that I'm back into records--

this has been hanging over me
since high school.

I'm like, "I've got
to understand Beefheart."

Now, like, okay,

some of you are gonna
get this shit.

Other--I don't know--
you know.

Captain Beefheart has been
hanging over me,

like this weird, you know,
cryptic--

you know, I can't even--
I'm not even--

I will never be smart enough
or large enough of mind

to assess and understand
Captain Beefheart.

Like, it's just been
hanging there,

but as soon as I start getting
into records,

I was like, "I got to fucking
understand Beefheart."

And the day came where I bought
my stuff and--

okay, it was a Sunday morning.

My girlfriend was hungover.

I remember this well,

because, like, there's a couple
things I could do

when my girlfriend's hungover--

generally would be
to reprimand her

and wake up and go,
"You don't feel good, right?

"Well, maybe you shouldn't
have drank

"and made a fool out of yourself
and me.

"Wouldn't that have been
a good thing

if you didn't fucking do that?"

And, you know, just keep pushing
until she cried.

Because I don't really know
if someone loves me

if I can't make them cry.

So...

Isn't that the test
for all of us, really?

If you're with somebody
and you don't know

if you can make them cry,

I'd really go deeper.

Wouldn't trust that bond.

But I made a different choice
that morning.

I went with, "Hey, baby.
You feel shitty?

Look, you want me to go get you
a breakfast burrito?"

So that was how I treated it,

but I knew that the record store

was right next to
the breakfast burrito place.

All right?

So I go to Atwater Village,

and I go to the burrito place,

and I go up--there's a Latino
guy there, which I expected.

I'm not racist, but I was like,

"Oh, yeah,
of course you're here."

So I ordered the burrito
from him,

and then I go three doors down
to the record store,

and I must have--I was almost
in, like, a panic.

You know, I just walk into
this record store,

and it was only open for, like,
ten minutes.

I just barge in.
I'm like, "Beefheart!

Where's the Beefheart?"

And the the guy in there,

it was almost as if
he was expecting me.

He's like, "Yep."
And, like...

And he walks me over
to this bin,

and I'm like,
"Which one? Which one?"

"Safe as Milk."

"All right, this is the one?
All right, good."

And as I'm walking out,

I see there's a sealed
Kraftwerk album,

and I'm like,
"Well, I'm still kind of gay."

So, like, I get that.

So I got Kraftwerk,
and I got Beefheart,

and I purchase it, and I go back
to the burrito place.

I timed it right to pick up
her burrito.

You know, and then I'm waiting
on the line.

I got my records,

and there's some big old
weird-looking dude behind me,

and I approached the Latino kid,

and he says, "What'd you get?"

I'm like,
"You wouldn't understand."

That's what I'm doing
in my mind.

So I go,
"I got Captain Beefheart."

He's like, "Oh, really?
Which one?"

I'm like, "Safe as Milk."

He's like,
"That's a good start."

I'm like,
"Who the fuck are you?"

You know?

And then it just became
this pocket of weirdness,

because I was like, "All right,
so he's on to it."

You know?

And then, like, I'm walking--

I turn around and go walk out

and the guy behind me is this
large--kind of looks like--

you know, he looks like
the dude--

he lived through the '60s
and, you know, survived it.

He had heard the exchange
with the Latino guy,

and then as I'm walking out,

I hear him right here
to the side of my head go,

"Trying to catch up, huh?"

But it was like--to me,

it didn't even come off
as an insult.

Like, I walked right by him,
and I'm like,

"That is all I'm doing."

I mean, I think in every aspect
of my life,

that is all I'm doing.

So then I felt like,
"That was the Buddha.

That guy was the Buddha,"

and I so wanted to go back

and have him not be there

and then ask the Latino guy,

"Where's that guy
that was behind me?"

And have the Latino guy go,
"There was no one behind you."

Yeah, so that's--yeah,
so I'm doing the vinyl thing.

Vinyl midlife crisis.

I didn't anticipate
doing that story at all.

"Why are you sitting weird?"
I don't know.

Honestly, though, like,
I didn't prepare that well,

'cause that's just the way
I do it.

I don't--like, I don't believe
in preparing.

I personally don't really
like preparers.

They're annoying people,
generally.

Like, you know, it's like,
"I really prepared for this."

Well, you're a coward.
You know?

Where's your sense of adventure?

How important is it that you--

like, you know, why set yourself
up for that?

You know what I mean?

Everyone with this
careerist culture, you know?

This sort of, like,
trajectory thing.

You know, it's gonna kill you.

You're gonna end up lonely
at the end

and not doing what you want
to do.

Don't prepare, man.

Just load up.

[laughter]

I think that's the key.

I think I'm rationalizing,
though.

Clearly I'm rationalizing,
because that's my system.

I mean, this is my system.
It's right there on the floor.

Why did I bring notebooks
out here?

What, am I gonna look
at notebooks?

Is that why I brought them
out here?

It's ridiculous.
I'm more professional.

I've been doing this half
my fucking life.

I'm gonna bring notebooks out?

It's to prove a point.
It's to prove a point.

I'll show you in a minute.

I just--I...

I don't prepare because--
look, it's my system.

How's that?

In my mind, if I don't prepare
and I pull this off,

I'm a fucking genius.

I'm a genius.
Right?

And if I don't pull it off,

I didn't prepare.

If I would have set my mind
to it,

I would have nailed that shit,

but, no, I didn't prepare,

because I like to roll the dice,
man.

Feel alive!
What's gonna happen?

I don't know.
I might fail.

All right. Fuck them.

That would be you.

I'm not gonna blame myself
for that.

So--yeah, the reason I brought
this out here,

'cause I know a lot of you
are creative people,

and I just wanted to share
my system of success.

I choose to write
on hotel stationary.

This is how I write.
This is the process.

Can you read that?
I can't read that.

That's also part of my process,

is be sure to impulsively
write quickly

with a borrowed
writing instrument

in a cursive that is unreadable,

because this is just phase one
of the process.

The second phase is decoding,
understanding the text.

Sure, write smaller
and underline occasionally.

That's good too.

Or perhaps you can get
to a point where, hey,

let's get to the final part

where you type it up, right?

Right there, that's
an almost finished joke,

and over here,
written is a punch line.

I can't read it.
See?

Make it challenging
at all levels.

This is a system that's kept me
out of the big time

for 25 years, right here.

The reason I'm illustrating it
to you is that...

my system sort of looks
like this.

When I write,
I don't write jokes,

I write thoughts,

and I think the action
of actually doing the writing

is what's important to me.

It's not whether or not
I remember it or anything.

So my writing process is,

I could be in a coffee shop,

I could be standing
on a bank line

with their deposit slips,

maybe waiting
at a cash register.

So my process looks
something like this.

"Oh, shit. Fuck.

"You got a pen?
Do you have a pen?

"Just hand me that.

"Can I--hand me that
piece of paper.

"Thank--pen?
Okay.

"Uh, okay, I got it.
Thanks, man.

Saved a life today."

You know, "All right."

So then I have the paper.

So that's really done.

That's the entire
creative experience for me.

It's done, because a lot of them
don't ever go anywhere.

So that piece of paper goes onto
a stack of pieces of paper

that look a lot like it--
napkins and stuff.

Now, the problem is, if I get
too far away from those things,

I don't know what
I was thinking,

so if I ever get to them--

like, I found a napkin
not long ago,

had three words on it,
"auto erotic asphyxiation."

That was what was on the napkin.

So that's sort of a problem,
right?

'Cause now I got to sit there
with that thing and go,

"What was going on that day?"

Like, I would have remembered
if I did that.

I mean, that--
'cause that's a big day.

That's kind of a game-changer.

I mean, you don't do that
and go,

"Oh, fuck, yeah, I remember.
I did that."

No, if you do that once,
you do that.

You've done that.

And, then, like, I'm looking at
it, and I remember,

"Oh, I was in a hotel room."

I decided at some point
that autoerotic asphyxiation

is strictly
a hotel room activity.

That--like, no one is doing that
at home.

You know, I picture men leaving
on business trips, saying,

"Honey, where's that belt
I always bring?

"You know, the one with
the weird markings?

I know I'm not that skinny.
I don't know how that happened."

All right.

But then I decided
that autoerotic asphyxiation

was discovered or invented
in a hotel room.

This was my logic.

I spent a lot of time
in hotels.

I travel alone for my job.

I'm under the impression

that if you go out on the road,

whether it's for business
or pleasure,

and you stay at a hotel alone
for at least a night,

at some point during your stay,

you will find yourself
in that hotel room alone,

thinking this:

"I want to fucking kill myself."

It's gonna happen.
It's a hotel room.

But if you're me, like, three
minutes later you'll say,

"No, I'll just jerk off."

So how long before one day
you're like,

"Hey, maybe we can bring
these two things together.

"Maybe we can take
this masturbation thing

"to the next level.

"I want this to be
life-threatening.

"I want to push the envelope.

I'm not really a sports guy, but
extreme wanking I could handle."

Now, look, I know a lot of you
clammed up on that,

but this is just the way
my brain works.

I have not done it,
so don't judge me in that way.

I'm not saying it's outside
of the realm of possibility.

I may do it,

and I know exactly how
it would go down.

I know exactly how
it would happen.

It would be--
probably be after a show.

Maybe this one.

I would get back
to my hotel room,

and I'd be all jacked up
from the show,

and I'd be like, "Fuck.
What am I gonna do now?

"Fuck, I'm gonna do it.
Fuck it.

"I'm gonna do it.

"All right, I know I need
a belt.

"Okay?

"I had a good set.
I earned this.

"I think, what, you got to hang
from a door.

"That's how those guys end up
in the paper.

"Wait--should I pull my pants
down now or wait?

"Oh, fuck.
Google it. Google.

"Autoerotic asphyxiation:

"how.

"Holy shit--I would have died
if I did it that way.

"I would have fucking died.

"Oh, fuck.
I lived.

I'm just gonna do it regular.
That was crazy."

I spend a lot of time in hotels.

I do.
It's just part of the job.

It's just part of my life.

And I don't mind it.

I got nothing to complain about.

I mean, I got to wake up early
sometimes

to enter a morning zoo
format.

I have to get up
to do morning zoo radio.

[grumbles]

As many of you know,
in every great city

or lesser city in this country

there's a morning zoo situation
happening,

and comics sometimes
have to enter that situation

and play along to sell tickets.

Now, as many of you know,
a morning zoo format,

traditionally there is
a main guy, a laughing guy,

and a baffled and shocked woman.

That's the classic setup,

give or take the woman
or the laughing guy.

If I were to do an impression
of that, there was just sounds,

it would be, "Bah.
Bah-bah-bah. Bah-bah-bah."

[laughing hysterically]

"Oh, fellas."

So I have to deal with that.

Now, in this particular story,
I'm in Cleveland at a hotel.

I get up at 5:30,

which quite honestly,
is bullshit for anybody.

5:30 is bullshit.

I mean, is it night?
Is it fucking day?

What the fuck is 5:30?

I don't care who you are,

whether you have to wake up
for it

or you've been up all night
for 5:30,

it's bullshit.

Of course if you've been up
all night for 5:30,

you have other problems.

Usually if you see the sun
come up at 5:30,

you're saying something like,

"Fuck, should we call the guy?"

You know?

"No, dude, we ran out
at the right time."

"Fuck you, I need a bump
for work."

"No, fuck you.
You got a drug problem."

"You're gonna tell me I have
a fucking drug problem

in my apartment, asshole?"

"Yeah, you do.
We don't need more blow."

"Fuck you!

"I just listened to you talk
about your guitar

"for four hours,

"and you're gonna tell me

"that I can't have another
fucking bump?

Get the fuck out
of my apartment."

Sorry. Flashback.

So I wake up at 5:30
to do morning radio,

and I realize I had forgotten
my toothbrush,

so then there's this dialogue
that happens in my head.

Like, one part of me is like,
"You fucking idiot.

"You're a professional traveler.

How could you forget
your toothbrush, stupid?"

And then the other part of me
is like,

"Hey, take it easy on us.
You know, it happens."

And then the other guy is like,
"Fuck you.

Take it easy?
It's your fault, asshole."

And then a voice I don't know
goes, "Oh, fellas."

And then I realize,
"Holy shit,

"I can just call the front desk
of the hotel

"and you can ask them
for a toothbrush,"

and they will give you, like,
half a toothbrush.

Like, not even a real
toothbrush.

Like, this--you get it,
and you're like,

"Why do they even bother
making these?"

So I call the front desk,
and no one answers the phone.

That's a lonely feeling.

Right?
Why isn't someone answering?

There's always supposed to be

someone at the front desk
at the hotel.

Why aren't they answering?

That's weird.

What was weirder
was my first thought

when no one answered,
my first real thought was,

"Oh, fuck.
Zombies."

And it wasn't even
a fake thought.

It was a real fear
in that moment.

I don't know what that says
about us as a culture,

that my first real fear was,
"Oh, fuck. Zombies."

But I know it was genuine,

because there were thoughts
that followed.

The thought that followed that
was,

"How many more are left
like me?

Should I be stockpiling food?
Do I need a weapon?"

These were practical questions.

And then I remember, like,
getting exasperated

and taking a deep breath
and thinking,

"I'm not prepared to lead."

Like, I really hope there's
an alpha male out there

with a rudimentary sense
of tribalism

that can lead me

and a frightened
multiethnic crew of people

through this postapocalyptic
zombie landscape,

or I'm fucking food.

I mean, I'm food in 20 minutes

if that guy's not
fucking out there, you know?

And then the woman picks up.

"Sorry to keep you waiting.
Can I help you?"

And I go, "What is going on
down there?"

And she said, "Excuse me?"

I'm like,
"Why didn't you answer?

We're in trouble!"

And she said,
"What's the matter, sir?

Can I help you?"

I'm like, "I need
a fucking toothbrush."

And she said, "There's no reason
for that language.

I'll send one up."

I'm like, "No zombies!"

And then, like, I realize I just
said that out loud to a person

and that maybe I should clear
something up.

So I caught myself,

and I thought this would
take care of it.

I'm like, "Hey, I'm sorry.
I got to do radio."

Like that should make it
understandable

to someone who has no idea
who I am or my life.

So I'm sure she hung up
and said,

"There's someone on meth
upstairs.

"But that doesn't really add up

because he asked
for a toothbrush."

Yeah, so--yeah, so that's it.
That's the life.

Yeah.

You guys are good.
You're a good audience.

I attract a lot
of sweet-looking people.

I don't know how that...

But you know...

When I was upstairs
opening for Hicks,

you guys wouldn't have liked me
at all.

It's a different style
of comedy.

I don't know.
I sort of evolved.

Or devolved.
I'm not sure what.

Let's see, what would Marc
have been like?

The guy that was upstairs.

Here, I'll try to capture
the essence.

[grunts]

[groans]

Uh-huh.

Then somehow that just became...

[sighs]

Hey.

No, but I judged you.

But I judge in general.
I think we all do.

Like, I sat over there,
and I looked at the audience.

I'm like, "Oh, they look good."
You know, I judge.

I judge everything.
I judge all the time.

I'm a great judger.

I have shitty judgment,
but I'm a great judger.

I'll judge the fuck
out of almost everything.

I fucking love it.
I'll own it.

I hate when people say,
"Hey, don't judge."

I'm like, "Fuck you.
Don't take away my hobbies."

I mean, if there is a god,
why should he have all the fun?

I love to fucking judge.

What does that even mean,
"Don't judge"?

What does the resting
human brain do

other than go,
"What the fuck is that guy?"

I mean, what are you gonna do?

I mean, there's really--
there's eating.

There's, "Oh, I'm working now."

And, like,
"That guy's an idiot."

That's all there is.

And then fucking,
but you're usually judging

at least for a few minutes
during that,

till you lose yourself

and then you think you're a hero
of some kind.

But...

I don't even know
what that meant,

but I think it makes sense.

But the point is, I learned
a lesson about judgment.

There's a story that I want
to tell,

because I think it's
an important story to tell.

I'm at a hotel in Montreal.

All that's happening
in this story is,

I'm walking towards an elevator.
That's it.

I am walking towards
an elevator.

There's a guy in front of me
about 20 feet

walking towards the elevator.

He's wearing shorts.
That's all that's happening.

Now, I don't know what's
going on with me that day.

I'm sure there's something
on my mind,

but I do know that when I
looked up and noticed that guy,

my brain went,
"Fuck those shorts."

But that angry.

I mean, immediately.

Like, "Who the fuck?

What kind of fucking idiot--"

Like, I was that hostile.

Now, we've all had that happen.

You see somebody you don't know
dressed a certain way,

and you're just walking down
the street and you're like,

"Oh, fuck you.

"Now your weird attempt at self
is cluttering my fucking brain?

"Like, what are you trying
to present me here?

"What era are you going for?
Where are we?

"I mean, is that a real beard?
Is that a coffee shop beard?

"Is that a 'the Jews run
the government,

"I shit in an outhouse' beard?

"What are you trying to do?

"Do you need those glasses,

or are you just a glasses
delivery system?"

Anyways, you get what
I'm saying.

And I've made bad choices
in that area.

I've been on the other side
of that.

There is footage of me
on Conan O'Brien, 1992,

sitting confidently
beside him,

wearing black leather pants

and a black velvet Nehru jacket.

That exists in the world.

I left my house thinking
that was a good idea,

that I could transcend
that outfit in a non-ironic way

and be funny.

What the fuck was I thinking?

I mean, did I leave my house
thinking, like, "I'm Bono.

You know, I can do this."

All right, back to the elevator.

So by the time I get
to the elevator,

I'm seething with anger
at that guy's pants choice.

Literally, like,
"You're a fucking idiot.

"People wouldn't even wear
those shorts on vacation.

You're so fucking--
How the fuck--"

Like, I was so furious.
I was seething, right?

And I hadn't even seen him
from the front yet.

We get on the elevator,
he turns around,

and he's got a scar that starts
on the center of his forehead

and goes all the way around
his skull.

My only thought in that moment
was,

"Oh, you can wear 'em."

But I don't even--
what does that even mean?

Like, what went through my mind?

Like, let's do, like, a montage.

All right, first shot,
he turns around.

My thought, "What happened
to your head, man?"

Right?

Second thought was probably,

"That must have been
touch-and-go

for at least an afternoon."

You know, concerned family
wandering the hospital hallways,

the whole bit.

Then the third thought
must have been, like,

"Well, you've earned the right
to pretty much wear

whatever you want, pal."

And I guess the final thought
was,

"Oh, I'm gonna give you a pass
today,

"'cause I'm the king
of this elevator,

"and you're my guest.

What floor would you like?"

Yeah, I don't believe in God,
and I don't...

It's not because--
I'm not an atheist.

I don't call myself an atheist.

I just don't give a shit,
really.

Is that okay?

I mean, I think it's a pretty
enviable position to be in,

because it pisses people off
more than atheists.

'Cause, like, if someone goes,
"Do you believe in God?"

and you're like,
"I don't give a fuck,"

they're like, "Well, what does
that even mean?

Pick a side!
What the fuck?"

Atheists are annoying.
They're annoying.

And I think they just like to--

they're control freaks
who like to argue.

They like to win.

You know, they're buzzkill
poetry assassins.

I don't understand, you know,
what it is

they're after, exactly.

And now they think they're
the minority voice.

You know, they're like, "Come
on, we're the minority voice.

"We have to have our
point of view too,

and why isn't our voice
out there?"

Because it's shrill
and annoying,

and no one really wants
to hear it, but...

That's really the only reason.

We understand your point.

It's just when you talk about
it, we just hate you.

And I certainly wouldn't want
to have lunch with an atheist,

'cause I know where that goes
within ten minutes.

I'd be just screaming, like,
"All right!

"You're right! Shut up!
You win!

What do you need?"

And you're not even talking
about God.

You're just talking about lunch
or anything.

They're just annoying.

Now, my bigger question about
atheists is that,

has there ever been a moment

where they've actually talked
a believer out of their god?

And what does that moment
look like?

If that is their agenda, what
does that moment look like,

given the atheists that perhaps
you know?

Seriously.

All right, I've created
an analogy.

I picture it going like this.

There's some dude just walking
down the street,

and things have been hard
for him,

and he's probably thinking like,

"You know,
things aren't going well,

"but, you know, I got God
in my heart,

"and that makes me feel better.

"You know, he gives me hope
that things are gonna be okay.

God's looking out for me."

And then out of the bushes
jumps an atheist.

[screams]

"There's no god!
You're living a lie!

"There's no proof!
You believe in a cartoon!

It's a delusion, stupid!"

And then the guys just goes,

"Oh, I never thought about it
like that.

"Oh, no.
I think you're right.

"I think you're right.
There's no God.

Everything's just bad.
It's just bad."

What does an atheist do
at that moment?

"Boom!
Who wins?

"Yeah!

"Oh, I won!

I'm gonna go tell
my shitty friends."

My point is, there are no
atheist soup kitchens.

[scattered applause]

So just shut up.

And if there were--

if there were
an atheist soup kitchen,

no homeless people
would go there.

They'd be like, "No, they're
depressing and annoying.

"The food's better,
but it ain't worth it, man.

"Let's just go over
to where the sisters are

and fucking have a warm meal."

Vegans too.
Like, look, I get it.

I understand you have an
ideological eating disorder.

But I don't want to have lunch
with you either,

'cause I know how that goes.

15 minutes in that lunch,
I'm gonna be like,

"All right,
I'm not gonna eat it.

"Are you happy?

"We didn't save a pig.
We wasted one.

"I know they're smart.
I get it.

"Okay, look.
You know what?

"Why don't you go to where
the smart pigs are

"and lead
a smart pig revolution?

"If you showed up
and just converged on a town

"with a bunch of smart pigs,

"if you could find talking pigs,

"all the more awesome,
all right?

"If you did that, I would never
eat meat again,

and I think it would be
hilarious."

An atheist vegan,
that would be horrendous.

Right?

I would rather spend an hour

with a reasonable Christian
on a mission

than spend, like, any time
at all

with an atheist vegan.

'Cause I know
what I'm getting into

with a reasonable Christian
on a mission, right?

I know that one.

All right, let's picture it.

I'll do my side
of that conversation.

I'm approached by a reasonable
Christian on a mission

on the street.

Let's go there now.

"Oh, hi.

"Wow, yes, I am lost.

"It is sad.

"Okay, wait. Stop right there.
I got a question.

"What if I let him into my heart
and then I want him out?

"Is there any way to get Jesus
out of your heart

"once he's in there?

"Like, do people ever experience
chest pains?

They're like, 'Jesus wants out.
He wants out.'"

Look, I got nothing
against Jesus.

Like, if you want to hang
your hopes on a flying Jew,

that's fine.

I'm not here to take God away
from anybody.

I'm not here to mock the myths
that define you.

The bottom line is, the only
reason I'm like this is,

I wasn't brought up with God,
so I don't have one.

The only way you get God is if
you're brought up by parents

that pounded it into your head,
'cause they're frightened

and think it's the right way
to do things,

'cause they don't know how to
control you and they're nervous

and they think that will help
somehow.

So either you get it
when you're a kid

or your life goes so far off
the rails

that you're left with no choice
but to reach out to something

bigger than you
to fucking keep your sanity.

Those are the only two ways
you can get God.

Either you're brought up
with it,

or you either metaphorically
or literally

find yourself in a puddle
of your own pee,

you know, perhaps bleeding
from someplace,

it's not even clear
at that moment,

and you're just sitting there
saying something like,

"Where's my shoe?
Where's my shoe?

I'm in trouble."

And then, like Jiminy Cricket,
Jesus shows up.

[whistles]

And you go,
"Jesus, you're here."

And Jesus goes, "Yes, my son,
and I have your shoe."

So there's that moment,
the born-again moment.

And most people go with Jesus
at that moment,

when they're broken like that.

But I found that that's also
a crossroads.

If you're not gonna go
for Jesus,

you're not gonna go
for Jesus,

but I find that there's this
weird line

where, like, your life goes
off the rails,

and either you're gonna go
with Jesus

or, from my experience,

you're gonna go become
a massage therapist.

These seem to be the two avenues
for broken, lost people.

They're gonna go with Jesus,
or they're gonna be like,

"I just want to touch people
in a healing way."

And yoga instructor.
Whatever you're gonna do.

Spiritual.
There's another problem.

Okay, so you're spiritual.
Do you have a god?

"No.
I have a mat."

Look, I don't want to talk about
religion forever.

You know, I was born a Jew,
and I remain a Jew, culturally.

But I'm not a Jewy Jew.

You know, I don't--you know.

And quite frankly I have
a problem with the Hasidim.

I resent them.

They make me uncomfortable,

and I think they're freakish,
and they bother me.

And I don't know why I can feel
comfortable saying that.

You know, why do I think
it's okay

for me to say shitty things
about the Hasidim?

'Cause what are they gonna do?

They gonna, you know, write me
an email?

Are they going to engage me
online?

[with Jewish accent]
"I really don't understand

"why you would say that about
your own kind.

Are you not a Jew?"

I'm like, "Yeah, but you guys
are freaks and you dress funny."

"But that's just the way
we believe."

"Like, how are you even writing
in this accent?"

Um...

I think they just annoy me,

because, like, it's got to be
something I'm jealous of.

There's got to be something
that bothers me about them,

you know, as a Jew.

I think it's because, literally,
like, some part of my brain

thinks, "Well, they've got
ritual, they've got discipline,

"they've got community,
they've got beliefs.

They've got all that stuff."

They never wake up
in the morning and say,

"What am I gonna wear today?"

You know?

"How about the leather pants
and the black Nehru jacket?

What would the Rebbe think
about that?"

[chuckles]

But I do think they're freaks.

I will drive through
Hasidic areas

as if they're wildlife parks,

with, like, the same energy.

Like, "Ooh, they're out.
They're out.

"It must be feeding time
or the Sabbath.

"Oh, speed up.
They're coming towards the car.

Oh, my God--they're doing
the Fiddler dance."

[imitates If I Were a Rich Man]

That's wrong, as a Jew,
to do that,

to talk about other Jews
like that.

I don't know.

I grew up in the middle class,

you know, just conservative
American Jew guy.

You know, you're not that
invested in it.

You get your Bar Mitzvah,
do the thing.

Go to the stupid temple,

where they have
the dumb gift shop,

the shitty watercolors

of Hasidim at the Wall.

You make fun of 'em
when you're a kid.

Like, "Those are bad."

And the lady's like,

"Those were done by a member
of our congregation."

"Yeah, but they still suck."

"Yeah, well, he's a survivor."

"Oh, why doesn't he paint that?

"You don't think watercolor
can handle the camps?

Why condescend an already
under-appreciated medium?"

But the weird thing about being
just an American Jew

is that there's this--
underneath all of it,

even if you're not religious,
which I never was--

I was just culturally Jewish--

there's this drumbeat beneath
all America Judaism.

Like, "You will go to Israel,

"and you will love Israel.

"Israel was built for us.

"You will go there and love it

"and send it money and let it do
whatever it wants to,

"whoever it wants to,

even if it's wrong."

And eventually you'll go
to Israel.

You won't necessarily know why
you're there,

but you'll go there.

Like, I went there with
my first wife, the Jew.

That was a mistake.

I--what?

I married a Jew.
It was a mistake.

I just found that if you're
a Jew and you marry a Jew,

that means everything you hated
about going home

is now in your house.

Some people find that
comforting.

I found it disconcerting and
a little uncomfortable for me.

It's amazing.

Like, when you marry a Jew,
if you're a Jew,

that's the day you become
an old Jewish person.

You don't realize it,
but it's encultured into you.

That's when the switch goes on.

I married her,
I was in my 30s.

Within two weeks
of marrying her,

I was just a 30-year-old
angry Jewish guy

with his own mind
and point of view.

Within three weeks
of marrying a Jew,

I talked like this, "What?

"What do you mean,
'Where are we gonna eat'?

We'll eat where
you want to eat."

How'd that happen?
Who am I?

All right.

Let's get back to Israel
real quick,

and then we'll move on
to other things.

So some point during that
marriage we went to Israel,

'cause we were Jews and we were
programmed to go to Israel.

Now, when you go to Israel,

you're supposed to get there
and be like, "I'm home.

Finally I understand where
my heart is."

That's how you're supposed
to feel

when you get off the plane
is Israel.

That was not my experience.

I literally--
the plane door opened,

I got on the stairs,
and I was like,

"We have to get the fuck
out of here.

"We really--
that guy's got a gun.

"There's chaos.

"I don't even know why
we're here.

"There seems to be problems
that have nothing to do with us.

Why is this a vacation?"

And then other Jews will comfort
you and go,

"No, no, it's right.
It's good."

And then you're like,
"Okay, let's go on the rides."

And then...

So then you spend some time
walking by ruins,

just piles of rocks
that used to be other things,

with pictures of what they
used to be,

and you go, "Oh, look at that.

Yep, it was Jewish."

And then...

and then you go by
some other rocks,

and you're like, "What is this?

Oh, it wasn't Jewish.
Mm."

And then eventually you'll end
up at the Wailing Wall.

That's the big payoff, man.

That's, like, home turf
for the Hasidim.

That's the big thing there.

That's where they all go
to cluster.

What you don't realize, though,

is that's where Hasidic Jews
come from, the real ones.

Like, I don't know
if you know this,

but if you go
to the Wailing Wall

early enough in the morning,

it's just hats on the ground.

And if you look at, like,
a time-lapse photograph

of the day,

you literally like...

That's a little secret

that a lot of you non-Jews
didn't know about.

They come right out
of the ground in Israel.

Yeah.

So, all right--so let's move on.

Let's move on to some
other things to talk about.

I...

I'm trying to mix it up.

[laughs]

There's things in my mind, man.

Oh, I'm fucking sweating.

My stomach was hurting before.

I don't know how that happened.

I've been traveling a lot,

and I didn't feel nervous about
coming out here,

because, like,
I trust you people.

I think we're okay.

But, like, maybe my stomach
was--I don't know.

Like, I've always been
an anxious, nervous, person,

and I would have
psychosomatic events.

Is that the word?

Did I ever tell you that story

about how I cured being
a hypochondriac?

Do you know that story?

That's a good story.

My father was a doctor,

which means I was
a hypochondriac.

How else are you gonna get
their attention?

Now...

Am I gonna tell--
okay, let's do it.

When you grow up with a dad
who's a doctor,

you have access
to other doctors,

and--well, here's the story.

I was at college,
I was a sophomore in college,

and somewhere about a month
or so before Christmas break,

I decided that I had M.S.

So I started calling my father.

Like, "Dad, I have M.S."

And he's like,
"You don't have M.S."

I'm like, "How do you know?
How do you know?

"You haven't examined me.

I don't know how you would
know that."

He goes,
"I know you don't have M.S."

He goes,
"What are your symptoms?"

I'm like, "I don't know.
My hands are tingly."

"Son, you don't have M.S.
Are you drinking coffee?"

I'm like, "I drink coffee."

"It's probably coffee."
"No, I have M.S."

And then--okay.
So he hangs up.

And then, like, a couple weeks
later, I'm like--I call him up.

"I have M.S.
I still have M.S."

He's like, "You don't have M.S."

And then that ends
that conversation.

And then, like, a week before--

maybe a week before,
I call him up and I'm like,

"Dad, I have prostate cancer.
I have prostate cancer."

He goes, "How do you know?"

"I don't know.

"It hurts down by my balls
and stuff,

"and I think I have
prostate cancer.

It kind of hurts on
my butt cheeks and stuff."

And he's like, "You don't have
prostate cancer."

I'm like, "I do."

And then I called him every day
for a week.

Just--"I have prostate cancer.
I have prostate cancer."

He's like, "You're too young
for prostate cancer."

"I know I have it."

So I get off the plane
when I got home.

It's, like, 6:00 or 7:00
at night,

and my father says, "We're going
to Bob Rosen's house

to get you examined."

This a urologist friend
of his.

So he's taking me
to a man's house

to be examined
for prostate cancer.

So he picks me up
at the airport.

He's like,
"No, we're going now."

I'm like, "I don't think
that's--

why can't I just go
to his office?"

"No, you have prostate cancer.

We're gonna go now."

So we drive to this guy's house,
who--

he doesn't know we're coming.

So...

We walk up to the door,

my father knocks on the door,

and Bob literally is like--

he shows up, he's got a napkin,
he's wiping his mouth.

I see his family's
at the dinner table.

My father goes, "My son thinks
he has prostate cancer.

Can you take a look?"

And Bob's like, "I don't know
what you mean."

He's--"Well, come on in."

And then he goes back
to the table,

he puts a napkin down,

and then he walks me and my
father into his bedroom,

and we're all standing there,
and I'm like,

"This in any other situation
would be illegal.

"Whatever's happening,
whatever's about to happen,

this is bad."

And thank God Bob says,

"You know what, he should
probably come to the office.

I don't think this is the place
to do this."

And my father's like,
"Are you sure?

Is that all right with you,
kid?"

I'm like, "Yeah,
it's probably better."

All right, so, Bob didn't
finger-bang me in his bedroom.

With my father watching,
nonetheless.

So this is how I cured my
hypochondriac-ness.

Hypochondria.

All right, so I go
to Bob's office.

Does the horrible examination.
It's very difficult.

You know, when you're a man,
this is--

I know women have their thing,
but I'm not a woman.

I know that as a dude, I got
to go in and get finger-banged

by a guy, you know, once a year,

in a clinical way,

but it's always awkward.

It's never a pleasant situation.

The most awkward part about is,
like,

you get to a certain age

where it's about to happen,

and it goes in and you're like,

"Oh, I kind of get this.

Wait, I'm not changing my life."

So...

But...

It does seem to do something.

But, okay, so he gives me
the examination,

and then he, you know,
he dives in.

It's really hard.
I don't want to go into it.

But he does the examination.

It turns out I had something.

I had something.
Huh? Yay.

I had some sort of prostatitis,
which my dad gets too.

It's some sort of--you know,
sensitive to it or what.

So I had something.
Great. I was right.

Now, what happens next is,
a week later,

it's supposed to be gone,
but I still feel it, right?

So I go into Bob's office,
and I go,

"I think I still have it."

He goes, "No, you've been
on antibiotics for 12 days.

It's gone."

I'm like, "No, I'm pretty sure
that I have it still."

He's like,
"No, you don't have it."

I'm like, "I don't know."

He goes, "You want me to examine
you again?"

"If you have to."

So he does it again.
I do it again.

I get finger-banged by Bob Rosen
again.

Twice.

Okay.

So now, like,
another week goes by,

I'm about to go back to school,

and I decide I have herpes
on my cock.

Now, the irony of this is,
I had not had sex.

I had somehow gotten it
from something.

It was a unique case.

[laughs]

So I, you know--sadly,
I probably just, like--

I probably just jerked off
too hard.

That was the sad part
about it.

Like, all right, anyways...

Look, I didn't want to do
this story.

All right, so...

So now I got to go back
to Bob Rosen.

So this is--like, I've been
at this house.

I've been finger-banged
by him twice.

And now a week later
I'm going back with herpes

that isn't even there.

So I go into Bob's office
and I go--

he's like, "What's up?"

and I'm like, "I'm pretty sure
I got herpes."

"Have you had sex recently?"

"No, I've never had it."

"Then how do you think you--"

"I just think I have herpes."

And so he goes, "All right,
take your pants down."

So I take my pants down,
and he sits down,

and rolls up one of those
chairs, you know.

And he's got my cock
in his hands.

He's holding my cock.

And he looks at it, and he goes,

"You know, there's nothing here,
Marc.

Do you like coming here?"

And that ended
my hypochondriacal period.

That was the end of that.

Sealed.
Nipped that in the bud.

I should tell you
the Viagra story now.

Has to do with another doctor.

I have doctor things.

Some of you know that I've been
divorced a couple times,

and the divorce
from the second wife

was particularly horrible.

And I remember, like, I was in
the middle of that,

and I had to get my checkup.

You know, you got to get
your yearly checkup.

So I had a doctor here in town,

Dr. Jay [bleep].

Maybe I should change his name.

I think it'll be all right.

I don't say anything bad
about him.

But he was, like, this
75-year-old guy.

Classic, you know,
old Jewish doctor.

He's the kind of guy--
like a little Jewish Buddha.

He looked like a well-worn
piece of Semitic furniture.

You know, he's the kind of guy
you walk into his office,

you're like,
"How you doing, Dr. [bleep]?"

He'd say, "I'm 75.
How do I look?"

You know, he was that guy.

You know,
and then by that point,

like, you know, he'd been doing
some painting,

so he'd have to walk around
his office,

"I'm painting now."

And he'd have to walk around
and...

"It's great.

A watercolor
of Jews at the Wall."

So...

I'm broken up, you know.

I'm, like, in the middle
of this divorce.

I'm heartbroken, you know?

So, you know, we do the exam,
you know,

and he's very stealth about it.

There's no big drama about
the--whatever.

You know, he says,
"You know, what's going on

with you in your life,
you know?"

And I tell him about the divorce
and everything,

and he's like, "Well, that's"--

I literally spent 20 minutes
telling him about my heartbreak.

And he looks at me,
and he's also the kind of Jew

that just, like, makes
everything like an adage.

You know, like, I go--
I just lay it all out for him,

and he looks at me and goes,
"People make a mess."

You know, and then I'm like,
"Okay."

And then he goes, "At least
you have your health."

So I'm like, "All right,
well, that's good.

Everything checks out."

And I'm walking out,
and I'm like,

"Well, thanks for listening,
and thanks for the examination.

People make a mess."

I'm actually repeating it
to myself.

"At least I have my health."

And then as I'm walking out,
he goes,

"Marc, come back in here."

And I'm like, "What?
What's the matter?

Is there a problem?"

He goes, "Sit down."

And I sit down.

This little, old Jewish guy,

he looks at me and goes,

"Have you tried Viagra?"

And, like, when you're a dude,

you know, there's part of you
that thinks, like,

"I don't need that.
I'm fine.

"My angry Jew cock
is in working order

and seeking revenge
on a weekly basis."

So I literally--I look at him.

I go, "I don't need Viagra."

And his little Jewish man,
his face lights up.

He goes, "It's not about need.

"This is a great drug.

No side effects.
It's terrific."

So now I got to picture him,
you know, like, just this--

[laughs]

This, like, weird little,
you know, sack of sand

with a protruding nub.

You know, like...

And he goes,
"Let me give you a few."

So I'm like, "You know,
I'm a drug guy at heart."

And I'm like, "All right,
didn't take my--yeah.

I'll take some of these."

So I had, like, three of these
fucking blue pills, you know,

in a little sample pack,
three or four of them,

and I had never taken them
before.

I knew what they were supposed
to do.

I didn't, you know,
ever take 'em.

I did a little research on them,
you know?

Do you know how much money
those drugs make?

I mean, they make millions
of dollars.

So in my mind, I was like,

"Well, that means that,
you know,

"everyone's doing 'em.

"It's not just those people
you see, you know,

"dancing in their living room
on the commercial

"or holding hands in bathtubs

"or getting onto motorcycles

"with too much gear
at their age.

"Everyone must be doing this.

Everyone has at least tried it."

You know, so I'm just trying
to justify it

in my mind, you know?

And then I started thinking,
like,

"Why don't they market it
to people like me?

"I mean, I'm in trouble.

I'm heartbroken.
I fucking--I'm a mess."

And I pictured the ad campaign,
you know.

"Viagra--for when you want
to fuck anything."

'Cause, you know, you could be
crying, just sort of like,

"I don't know.
I miss my wife.

"This feels weird.

Okay, I'm ready.
Sit on it."

"Viagra--

for when you want
to fuck anything."

I tried 'em.
I tried 'em a few times.

They're dangerous, man.

Have you ever done it?
Have you ever?

You got to do it at least once,

'cause you don't realize...

you know, whatever you're
working with without them,

it's fine,

but on them, you're like,
"Oh, my God."

It's almost like, when you're
fucking on Viagra,

there's, like, a moment, like,
where you look down

at your cock and you think,

"It doesn't even need me."

Like...

"Like, I wish I could just leave
my body and sit over there

"and jerk off to me doing this.

That's how good I'm doing."

Yeah, so...

so don't get too caught up
with that stuff,

'cause it's a lie.

[chuckles]

But it's a fun lie.

"So, wait, where do you go
from there, exactly, Marc?

Why are you talking to yourself
out loud?"

Look, you guys,
I'm not an alpha guy.

I just want to put that
out there.

Like, I think I act like
an alpha guy,

but I don't think I am
an alpha male,

and I know that because
when I lock eyes

with a real alpha male,
they know.

I can read their face.

There's that moment,
they're like,

"Say hi to that little girl
in there."

I'm like, "Oh, fuck.
They saw you.

"They saw you.

"Walk away.

"He's gonna want to talk
about sports.

"Walk away.

Gonna bring up extreme wanking."

But, yeah, I'm not that guy.

I'm not a sports guy.

I mean, I just wasn't brought up
believing in it,

and...

But there's still part of me,
it's weird.

I'm 49.

There's still part of me

that if I see, like,
four high school guys

wearing varsity jackets,

there's still part of my brain
that thinks,

"Oh, fuck, be cool.
Just be cool."

I'm not even on their radar.

I mean, like, unless
it's for one of them to say,

"Why is that old guy
acting weird?"

You know, and in my brain,
I'm like, "Leave me alone.

I'm just going to my locker.
I'm just going to my locker."

But, okay, let's get to sports.

I'm not a sports guy
for a very specific reason.

I also think I'm a comedian
for a very specific reason,

and it has to do with
my parents,

'cause they can go fuck
themselves.

Look, if your parents
ever sent you

to more than one summer camp
in the summer,

it wasn't about you
having a good time.

They wanted you out
of the house.

They didn't want to deal
with you anymore.

And they'll try to push it off
on you, like,

"You need to learn new things."

And like, "When is a Jewish kid
gonna need to ride a horse?

"Seriously, when am I gonna need
to ride a horse?

"What situation
will I ever be in

"where I'm like, 'Thank God
I went to that camp

"'where they all made fun of me

'cause I can ride this horse
right out of here'?"

My mother also found me
a guitar teacher

that was a guy who was married.

They were these
two Christian hippies,

little chubby Christian hippies,
and they would come,

they would pick me up
at school,

they would take me
to swim practice,

they would take me out
to dinner,

and then they'd take me home
to their house

and teach me guitar.

And my mother would say,
"How was your guitar lesson?"

And I would say,
"With my other parents?

It was fine."

My mother is a professional
anorexic,

and I say that--

I say that because it's her job.

It's not a sickness.
She manages it.

If you were to ask my mother,
"What do you do for a hobby?"

She would say, "I maintain
a weight of 116 pounds."

And you would say,
"That's your life?"

"Yes, that's--all my life
goes into that."

So that's my mom.

Thought it'd be funnier.

But I...

'Cause this next part
really needs a buffer.

I really...

I think for the first nine years
of my life,

I was a fat kid,

and I really believe my mother
just saw me

as some sort of weird extension
of her fat,

and I think that she thought
if she could just stop eating,

then maybe the kid
would disappear.

[groans]

I can't frame that any funnier.

But--just saying it that time
made me hurt a little bit.

Let's get to the funny part.

At some point my mother decided

"Maybe we should put Fat Marc"--

she never referred to me
that way out loud,

but I could see it.

"I think Fat Marc should be
on peewee little league."

I showed no interest in sports.

I didn't care about sports.

I was not guided that way.

I never played catch
with my dad,

because playing catch with
my dad would have been like

throwing the ball...

away.

All right.

So she puts Fat Marc
on peewee little league.

All right, now, when you're fat
and you're

on peewee little league,
you're in the outfield,

'cause no one's going to hit
that far,

and if it does get out that far,

it's gonna hit the ground
and it's just gonna be bouncing.

It's not a big deal.

So Fat Marc is out
in center field.

Got a fat left-fielder.

Got the fat right-fielder.

We're just out there being fat.

We're the fat outfield.

All right,
maybe a little chatter,

hitting the glove a little bit.

"Hey, batter, batter.

"What does this even mean?

Why are we saying this
like this?"

You know, maybe a little
chitchat with the other guy.

"Hey, are you gonna get
a Snickers or a snow cone after?

"I'm probably gonna get both.

"I'm gonna get
a rainbow snow cone

and try to eat it
before it turns purple."

All right.

And, look, I got to be honest
with you.

I was not prone--you know,
I'm fairly athletic.

I could probably pull it off,

but I was afraid of the ball,
man.

But, like, at that time, like,
you know, batting--

this is how I would bat.

Catching.

But this was me in the picture.

[applause]

All right,
so here's what happens,

and this was
a life-changing event.

We're gonna try and work
through this.

I've made a promise to myself
to work through this.

I'm out there in center field,
just being fat.

We're having our time out there,
all right?

We're just kicking the dirt
around.

And then I heard that sound.
It's an unmistakable sound.

Everyone knows that sound.
It was the crack of a bat.

And my first reaction
was to look at the other guy.

And then I look over
at that guy,

and he's pointing at the air,

and there's a ball
just suspended in the air,

coming towards Fat Marc.

The coach is saying,
"Get under it! Get under it!"

And I'm backing up,
and I know this is--

like...
[groans softly]

You know, it's right there.

And then in my memory,

there was a sprinkler,
all right,

that--my heel caught
on a sprinkler.

I'm pretty sure it was there,
all right?

I can't be sure.

It might just be something
I put in there to--

you know, to buffer the shame

of what's going to happen next,

which is me falling backwards
onto the ground

and the ball bouncing off
of my face.

So I was under it.

I got that part of the equation
correct.

Now, in my mind, at that point,
the coach is yelling,

"Get up, you fat fuck!

"Field it, fatty!

Come on!"

Now, that's obviously
revisionism.

I don't think a coach would talk
that way to a fat kid, right?

I probably made that up
to make the shame worse.

So now it's not really
a ball game

as much as it is
a fat kid crying,

which on some level, in my mind,
is like,

"Well, it was all about me
for that time."

It would have been
a better moment to be like,

"I caught it.
I caught it."

But, like...
[wailing]

That's all right?

Like, on some level, if you're
that self-absorbed

and you want to be
the center of attention,

it succeeded in that way.

But see, I really think,
though--

this is my point.

I think if I would have caught
that ball,

I would have been
a different person.

I don't think I would be up here
talking to you.

I think I would have been
a well-adjusted person.

I would have felt that feeling
of esteem

and maybe gone on
to play more sports.

Perhaps I would have, you know,
now been at a pretty good job

with a family and had, you know,
guy friends

that I would say things like,
"Good talk, bro."

You know?

Like, it could have been
a whole different life for me

if I just caught that ball.

And some part of me
needs closure,

so if you don't mind, I want
to go through a psychodrama here

where I'm going to walk
Fat Marc off the field.

I'm gonna walk Fat Marc off

and just try to give him
a heads up,

which is a term he didn't
understand at this point.

Just try to, you know, give him
a heads up

for what's gonna happen.

So let's go there now.

I'm gonna try to coach
little, fat Marc.

Here we go.

Wow, that was ridiculous,
what just happened.

You were so close.
You almost had that.

You all right?
It's okay, though.

It's okay.

Look, there's a couple things
I need to tell you

about what's gonna happen
for you.

First of all, there's no
going back to the dugout.

This shit is done.

You're not gonna--there's
no more putting yourself

in the position to be
physically hurt.

From here on out,
it's all gonna be thinky pain.

What else can I tell you?

Teamwork--that's done.
No more of that.

No reason to believe
in that shit.

And quite honestly, from here
on out, no sports heroes,

not that you had 'em
to begin with,

but here on out, just loners,
fragmented people,

drug addicts, people who live
on the margins.

Comedians, rock stars--
those are your people.

Get used to it.

And also I guess I can tell you
quite honestly,

it doesn't get much better
after this.

On many different levels
in your life,

metaphorically, this situation
will play out

over and over again.

You're gonna very close
to catching it,

and then you will just end up
crying.

What else can I tell you
about the immediate situation?

Okay, you're gonna get off
the field,

your mom's gonna take you
to Dairy Queen,

she's gonna let you eat
a banana split,

you're gonna enjoy that,

and an hour later,
she's gonna make you feel guilty

about eating it.

So that's gonna happen.

So quite honestly,
she's out too after this.

You know, they're both out.

Mom and Dad are done.

What else is gonna happen?

Oh, at about 14 you start
smoking cigarettes,

which are really cool,

but at 39 when you can't
breathe, not so cool.

Cocaine is gonna come into play,
about 15 years old.

You'll commit to that for about
nine years of your adult life,

which will also be very
exciting, but a mistake.

I don't know,
how can I sum this up?

Okay, it's gonna take a lifetime
to walk this off.

And you can quit crying now
on the outside.

And I think the big payoff
is that, eventually,

you know,
because of this moment

that you had on this field,

and, holy shit, and let me just
look around for a minute.

No sprinkler.

Because of this moment here,

you're gonna find yourself
at age 49

on a stage in a basement
in New York City

in front of a room full
of strangers,

taping a special with no end
to this story, really.

There's no end.

So if you'd only caught
that ball,

we'd have a little closure
on this bit.

Thank you.

[applause]

All right, I'm glad we did this
in a little space.

This is the way to do it.

Like, part of me--like, I think
this is the way comedy is best.

See, like, right here.

You know, like that.

I want to have that.

I don't want to do it
in a theater.

'Cause, like, all the specials
that you see at theaters,

it's like there's 900 people,

and, like, this not--you know,
comedy is not done like this:

"How's everybody doing?
What's going on?

"What do you say?
Funny time!

Ow!"

All right,
let's talk about love,

and let's move through
this stuff.

All right, here we go.

So I'm in a relationship now.

Been married twice,
divorced twice.

That's fine.
I'm over that shit.

Got no problem with it.

The first one I feel bad about.

The second one,
she can go fuck herself,

but I don't feel that actively.

It's not an active aggravation
that I have.

I'm in a relationship right now

with a girl who is significantly
younger than me.

I'm not bragging.

It's just the way it goes.

All right?
See, I'm 49, she's 29.

That's it.
It's out there.

Don't judge me.
Don't judge me.

Do not judge old guys
with young girls.

Do not judge them, like you
fucking know what's going on.

You don't know what's going on.

I hate when people see an older
dude with a younger woman,

like,
"I know what that's about."

No, you don't.
You don't know what it's about.

What it's probably about is,

that dumb old fuck
is probably in love with her

and he's doomed.

If you ever see an old guy
with a younger woman,

just picture him
as a doomed clown.

Just look at him, like,
wearing the clown's hat

with a clown's nose,

maybe the big clown shoes,

and picture him maybe
a few paces behind her,

trying to keep up,

saying things like,
"What's this band called?

"How long's the show
gonna go on for?

Is this a seated event?"

And then just see him slow down

and she just walks away.

He goes, "Bye.

Thanks for helping out."

[imitates horn honking]

[hums whimsical carnival music]

I know what this is about.

I don't go after younger women.

It's just what I'm attracting
right now.

I don't attract
age-appropriate women,

thank God.

I don't have anything--

and that's not a dig
on age-appropriate women.

My mother still hangs on
to the hope.

She's like, "Marc, you're gonna
meet an age-appropriate woman

and be very happy."

I'm like, "How is that possible?

"How am I gonna meet someone
my age or within that age range

"that is not as fucked up
as I am?

"I mean, I'm a big bag
of problems.

"Whoever I meet's gonna be
a reflection of that.

"How is that fun?
What are we gonna do?

"Sit on a couch every night

"and talk about how we fucked
everything up,

"how we both failed?

"Are we gonna have arguments

"why I can't get along
with her teenage son?

"I mean, how does it play out
in your mind?

"Am I gonna be sitting there
going,

"'Because he can catch!
That's why!

"'Because he can catch.

"'And he can't wear that fucking
varsity jacket in my house.

Oh, he's here.
Just be cool. Be cool.'"

My second wife was younger
than me.

I've been through this before.
I know what it's about.

I've been through this
several times,

the younger woman thing.

I actually thought about having
business cards printed up

that just said, "Marc Maron:
A phase you're going through."

"Resolving daddy issues
since 1989."

That's what it's about.
That's what it's always about.

That's what most of it is about.

Come on.
I know how this ends.

I'll finally get comfortable.
My heart will be wide-open.

We'll just be sitting
on a couch,

watching Chopped
or House Hunters,

and out of nowhere
she'll just say, like,

"Yeah, it's weird.

I'm getting along so much better
with my dad now,"

and I'll be like, "Oh, fuck.
I guess I'm done.

"My work is finished.

"Now it's time for you
to move on

"to an age-appropriate
relationship

and have some babies."

[woman groans in audience]

Is that sad?

I don't think it's gonna go
that way with this one.

I don't think...

Yeah, I think that was
a hypothetical one.

This one's not going anywhere
that quickly.

I don't think I could get rid
of this one if I had to.

[laughs]
She's fucking terrifying.

I'm actively scared of her,

and somehow in my mind
I've decided,

"Well, that's healthy to be
frightened, terrified,

of the person you love."

Like, I think that if you were
with somebody

and you're not terrified
of them,

how is that gonna last?

You know what I mean?

How are you gonna behave
properly

if you are not terrified
of them?

What do you think,
just intimacy and trust

is gonna hold that together?

But it's hard being older,

because, like, you know that.

You're constantly reminded
by the fact

that we're with
a younger person.

'Cause sometimes she'll just
hover over here by my head.

Like, I'll just feel her
looking at the side of my head,

and she'll say something like,

"Oh, we got to do your ears."

How do I hear that as anything
other than,

"You're old.
Look at your hairy ears."

One time we were at a hotel,

and I picked up something
that I thought was a phone.

It wasn't a phone,
it was a remote control,

but that didn't stop me from
holding it up going,

"Is this a phone?"

And then she looked at me goes,

"That's the oldest thing
you ever did."

Then I saw the regular looking
phone right over there.

I'll tell you,
there's some couples shit

that's just so--
I think it's so--

like, I always think I'm, like,
the only one,

but it's just not.

Like, sometimes--
like, okay, look.

The driving thing
when you're in a couple,

it's not good.

One time--okay, look.

She drives for her job.
She works with emotionally--

severely emotionally disturbed
or autistic children.

That's what she does
for a living,

so she's perfect for me,

because that's really who I am
in there.

She's actually said this to me,
you know, earnestly,

"Use your words.
Use your words."

So she's in
the passenger's seat.

We're driving somewhere,

so she's got to be, like,
control freaky about it.

We're on the highway,
she's like,

"Oh, you want to get
in the other lane,

because this lane turns--"

I'm like, "I know.
I know how to drive.

You know, I've been driving
a long time."

You know, and she's like,
"Okay, okay."

And we keep driving,
she's like,

"Oh, you want to--
you got to get--"

I'm like, "I know where--
I know.

I've been down
this road,"

but in my mind
it's starting to be like,

"Shut the fuck up.

You know, I'm not
a fucking idiot."

You know, that's what's going on
in my head.

She's like,
"You got to get off."

In my head I'm like,
"God--what the fuck?"

All I want to do
is create tears, and--

but I don't.
I don't.

This is the amazing thing
about being a dude

or being this dude,

is, like, every time that
I don't honor the part of me

that wants to say,
"Shut the fuck up,"

I think I deserve a medal.

Like, literally, by the third
time she talked, I'm like,

"I'm doing a good job.

"I think she should appreciate

just how much I'm not making
her cry right now."

So I keep it all to myself,

and we finally get to where
we're going, this art gallery.

And now, look, I have a style
of stopping.

I generally--I'll roll through
a stop sign

and look both ways and stop
somewhere in the middle.

You know?

It's gotten me two points away
from losing my license,

but I still commit to the style.

So we made it through
this whole drive

without me fucking
losing my mind,

and I pull up to this crosswalk.

I drift into the crosswalk.

We're right across the street
from where we're going.

And she goes,
"You're in the crosswalk!

You're gonna kill somebody!"

And I just said,
"Shut the fuck up!

"We're not gonna be this couple!

"We're not gonna do this thing!

"I'm not gonna live like this.

I mean, what are we, 50?"

And, like, I'm a year away
from 50,

so, like, I thought fast,
and I'm like,

"What are we, 65?"
I said.

By that point, like, I had lost.

You know, I just looked like
an idiot,

and then all I could do
was, like, dude brood.

You know,
just the sulking thing.

What do we think we're
accomplishing with that?

I mean, I don't know
if you do it,

but, like, literally,
they're like, "It's okay."

I'm like, "No, don't touch me."

You know, like, "Eh."

She wants to have a baby.

You think I should?

[audience exclaims in agreement]

[audience exclaims
in disagreement]

[laughter]

I know--I somehow managed
to be married twice

and not have babies,

but this one wants to have
a baby.

I know that 'cause she says
things like,

"When are you gonna put
a baby in me?"

"I don't know, when you frame it
differently maybe would be..."

And also I don't want to do that
to a kid.

I mean, I think I'm too old,

and people are like--
especially dudes are like,

"What do you mean?
You're a dude.

"You can have babies as long
as you have come in your balls

that you can get out into
the other thing."

I'm sorry.
Didn't mean to get clinical.

I apologize.

And I'm like, "No, not that.

I just don't want to do that
to a kid."

And they're like, "What are you
talking about?"

It's like, "Look, I remember

the first time I met a kid
with an old dad."

Don't you?
It was awkward.

Like, first grade or something.

You're both waiting for
your parents to pick you up.

Like, his dad comes,
and you're like,

"Who's that?"

The kid's like, "That's my dad."

And, like, you can't even wrap
your brain around it.

You're like, "What?

How old is he?"

"I don't even know."

"Does he do anything?"

"Yeah, sometimes.

I got to go.
I got to help him."

I just don't want to do that
to a kid for some reason.

And, like, I've done a lot
of jokes onstage

that are a lot more--

like, I've done some
wrong-minded shit

in my life onstage,

but that is the only joke
that I've told

and a woman has come up to me
after a show crying, crying.

"I had an old dad!

And he was really nice!"

So of course I'm thinking
something must have happened.

I mean, you got to think
this through.

You shouldn't be that upset
about that joke, you know?

"Where'd you say you were
dancing tonight?"

Um...

You know, maybe I'll have
a baby.

I mean, I got to do it--
I got to do it soon.

It'd be good, right?
They hang out, you know.

I think I'd be
a pretty good dad.

I'm just very nervous
and very panicky,

a very worried guy.

Like, even thinking about
the baby, like--

"Yeah, I could have a baby."

It goes right from there
to "It's dead!"

Like, there's nothing
in between those two things.

"I think it would be wonderful
to have a child."

"It's not breathing!
What do I do?"

But I know she's probably
the right girl,

because we vacation together
and we survive that.

That's always dicey.

Are you guys married?
Yeah?

Do you remember
the first vacation?

Horrifying, wasn't it?

Did you do all right?
You did all right?

See, my whole thing was,
like, look--

we have this system at home
where, like, okay,

we're playing pieces on this
board that we understand.

You have a sort of weird,
kind of petty interactions

that you get very predictable,

and you're like, "Okay,
I'm gonna say this.

"She's gonna do that.

I hope she doesn't, like,
threaten to leave now."

You know, that kind of stuff.

So we didn't know where to go,

and a lot of people
were suggesting Cuba,

which I didn't understand.

What the fuck is wrong
with hipsters?

Like, "Yeah, you got to go
to Cuba."

I'm like, "Why do I need
to go to Cuba?"

"Because they're gonna let
capitalism in,

and it's gonna change."

"So you're saying I should go
appreciate the charm

"of a failed communist
dictatorship?

"You want me to go
experience that

"before the people actually
have a sense

of self and pride
or whatever?"

Well, maybe that's not what
capitalism will bring,

but you get what I'm saying.

"They make the cigars
right there."

Look, I can be miserable
and smoke a cigar anywhere.

I don't have to go to the source
of the cigars to do that.

Some people are like,
"You should go to Kauai.

There's nothing there."

Right?
That's what people say.

"It's great.
It's in Hawaii.

There's nothing there."

That's the selling point.
"Really? Nothing there?"

"Yeah, it's great.
There's nothing there."

And then you go, and within
three days, you're like,

"There's fucking nothing here!"

So I don't know if you know
anything about Kauai,

but there are thousands
of roosters.

There are thousands of roosters,

real, full-on fucking roosters.

Not little roosters.

The kind you see twice
in a lifetime,

because the bottom line is,

there was nothing in Kauai,
right?

Portuguese ships would come
and leave animals.

There was nothing to eat 'em,

so now you've got an explosion
of roosters.

The first time you see that
many roosters, you're like,

"This is the sign
of something bad."

But then you're like,

"No, there's just a lot
of roosters here."

Thousands of 'em.

And by day three, you're like,
"All right."

You're used to it, but then
you realize, "Fuck.

None of them know what time
it is."

You know, it's like
all day long.

[imitates rooster crowing]

You're like, "It's fucking 3:30.

"What is this bullshit?

Is this what freedom does?"

They're just out there like,
"I don't work for the man!

"[imitates crowing]

"I just woke up.
Fuck you.

You're on my schedule, tourist."

And it's weird.

I had a very poetic moment
with a chicken--

or a rooster,
not a chicken--

in Kauai.

I had a very powerful moment
with a rooster,

and I'll share it with you.

It's weird.

When I said that line
in North Carolina,

that line, "I had a powerful
moment with a rooster,"

there was a dude in the audience
that went,

"Yep."

And, like, in my mind,
it's like,

"His story's got to be better
than mine."

'Cause I just pictured a dude,
like,

"Yeah, it was, like,
in seventh grade.

"I was horny, you know,

"and I thought
I could wrangle it,

"and it was, like, weird,

and that's why I have one ball."

But I had a poetic moment
with a rooster,

and I'll explain it to you.

I was just on the balcony
in Hawaii.

I was looking at the roosters.

Just me looking at roosters.

And one of them
had a fucked-up leg,

but he didn't know
he had a fucked-up leg.

He's a stupid rooster.

Now, you know,
these roosters are big.

I have to assume that's where
the word "cocky" came from.

Roosters are pretty dramatic,
you know,

intense-looking things.

And this guy has
a fucked-up leg,

but he doesn't know it,

so he thinks he's still getting
over, you know?

So he's sort of like,
"Oh, yeah, look at me.

"Fuck yeah!

Who wants a piece of this?"

You know?

And I'm just assuming
all the chickens are like,

"No, that guy's got
a funny frequency.

"I'm not gonna fuck that guy.

"It's probably congenital,

and I don't want my kids
to walk like that."

But he doesn't know that.

They're thinking, like, "I don't
know if I can fucking invest

my eggs in that fucking freak."

"Come on, baby!
Who wants a piece of this?"

So I'm projecting all this
onto the situation.

In my mind I'm like,
"You know, we're a lot alike,

you and me,
crippled rooster."

I've been to Kauai twice,
with both of my ex-wives.

All right?

So I had a lot more baggage
than we actually brought.

So I don't know if you've been
to Kauai,

but people go on helicopters.

Did you go on the helicopter?

You didn't go?
Why didn't you go?

'Cause it's ridiculous.

There's no reason to go
on a helicopter

if you're not in combat.

There's no reason.

It's not a recreational vehicle.

It's a dicey machine.

But I've been on two.

I went on a big one
with my first wife,

and I went on a smaller one
with the German,

the second wife.

Now, I'm not even gonna
explain that.

The second one--

the second wife paid extra money
to go on a Huey--

that's the one with no doors.

I remember it very well.

If I were an alpha male and went
out with this girlfriend,

I would have been, "Fuck you.

I'm going on the helicopter,
even if you don't want to."

And she didn't want to.
She wanted to go on a boat.

Fine.

But that second helicopter,
I remember that,

'cause we were in there,
strapped in,

me, ex-wife, pilot,
podiatrist, and his wife.

My entire time I'm like,

"I don't want to die
with a podiatrist.

You know, It's not even
a real doctor."

So...

But I remember it,
because the pilot--

we got on, the pilot said,
"I flew in 'Nam,"

and I'm like,
"Not a selling point,"

you know what I mean?

And I appreciate you had to do
what you had to do,

but are we gonna be dodging
things only you can see?

Is this a tactical mission
away from your past?

I mean, how is this gonna go?

But I remember it
because, like, we were flying

on the Na Pali coastline,

which is the most beautiful
thing

you'll ever see in your life,

especially from that angle,

and I was terrified.

My leg was hanging out the door,

and I remember 'cause my wife
was holding me

with a concerned look
on her face.

I remember that because it was
the only time I really saw it.

That was the only thing.

And I remember, like, seeing
the most beautiful thing

you ever saw in your life

and being terrified more than
you've ever been in your life

simultaneously

was an amazing experience,

'cause I remember the pilot
goes, "Pretty cool, huh?"

And I think I went, "Yes!

"It's very nice!

Please land the machine!"

Because when I'm terrified,
I turn into Gene Wilder.

So my girlfriend wants to go
on a boat.

Okay, boat's fine.

I can handle a boat, right?

Boat's okay.

So we're gonna go on
a catamaran.

You know what a catamaran is?

I didn't know what it was.

It's the two things.

Um...

Now, I didn't really know the
kind of old Jew I was becoming,

but this is the kind of old Jew
I'm becoming.

We're supposed to get on a boat
6:30 in the morning, okay.

At 12:30 at night I sat up
in bed and said,

"I need the pills!

"I need the pills
for the seasickness

"or I'll get sick on the boat.

We got to get the pills."

And she goes, "Can we get them
in the morning?"

I'm like, "No! I don't know!
I need 'em."

So I put my shorts on,
she puts her sweats on.

We drive around the island
of Kauai

to 24-hour supermarkets,

me walking in, going,
"Do you have the pills

for the seasickness?"

Some guy behind me going,
"Fuck those shorts."

"I know you."

So we get the pills.

We wake up.
We get on the boat.

All right?
It's fun.

There's about 15 people.
It's a catamaran.

You go, you--
we go around the island.

We saw porpoises.

We saw sea turtles.

I am capable of childlike awe.

"Look at the turtle!"

Okay, but then what happens is,
the water gets rough.

It gets rough.
It seems dangerous to me.

I knew I wasn't gonna die,

but, you know, I was in
a helicopter,

but it was still rough,

and it was bouncing,
and everybody takes seats,

and there's no seats
left for me.

So now I'm the guy holding on
to a pole.

So now I'm this guy.

I got a vest on,

and I'm, like, sitting there,
going, it's like...

Like, and my girlfriend's
sitting in a seat.

She got a seat,
so I keep checking in with her.

"Hey, baby, you okay?"

She's like, "I'm fine."
I'm like, "All right.

I'm not so good."
Yeah.

And, like, three minutes later,
I'm like,

"You okay, baby?"

She's like, "Yeah, I'm fine."

I'm like, "All right,
I'm just over here."

And then I'm like,
"Are you okay?"

She's like, "Shut the fuck up!"

I'm like, "Okay."

And then I realize
I'm that kind of guy.

Like, if you're ever checking in
with the person you're with

over and over again, no matter
what the situation is,

all you should be saying is,
"Help me. Please help me."

I do it at home.
I could be in the kitchen.

I'll be like,
"Where are you, baby?"

She's like,
"I'm in the bedroom."

I'm like, "All right, I was just
feeling abandoned.

Do you love me still?"

All right.

So now I'm all alone
on this pole.

It's, like, connected to a
platform where the captain is,

and I'm just, like, holding on,

and I noticed there's two
dude-dudes behind me,

two alpha dudes.

They weren't even wearing vests.

They were just leaning
against the back part,

where the door goes under,
right?

Just leaning there.

And then part of me is like,
"Oh, maybe those guys

will take care of me."

You know?

[laughs]

"Will you guys be my friends?"

You know?

And I realize that they probably
wouldn't,

but I just thought I'd lean in
and, like, listen

to what they're talking about,

to maybe wedge myself into
the conversation.

And this is what transpired.

I'm paraphrasing,
but I swear to you,

this is what happened.

I leaned in,
and I'm listening to them,

and I hear the old one go,
"So you got a boat?"

The young guy's like,
"Oh, yeah, we got a speed boat,

"couple Jet-Skis.

We love it.
We take it out all the time."

And, like, right away
my brain's like,

"How do you even own a boat?

"What do you do with it
when you're not using it?

"Does it just sit out there?

"Do you take it out
of the water?

"Do you hire somebody
to take care

of a boat you're not using?"

By the time they had changed
topics, I had sold my boat.

All right.

Then the next topic--
swear to God, the next topic,

the guy goes,
"So you got bikes?"

And the young guy's like,
"Oh, yeah, we got dirt bikes.

"Put 'em on the trailer,
take 'em out,

ride 'em on the hills,
take 'em to jumps."

And the old guy's like,
"Yeah, I got speed bikes.

I like going fast."

And in my mind, my dad was
taking me to a hospital--

this really happened--

where he walked me up
to the fourth floor,

stood me in front of a dude
in traction

with pins sticking out
of his legs and said,

"Motorcycles."

Yeah, so that was that memory.

So then the next topic was--
the old guy goes, "You hunt?"

And the young guy's like,
"Fuck, yeah.

We go out for deer.
We go out for elk sometimes,"

and the old guy's like,
"We went out with--

we nailed some bears up north
once."

I swear I was waiting for one
of these guys to go,

"I killed a guy
with my dick once.

"You know, by accident,
you know.

"I was just, you know,
gutting a moose.

"It popped out.
Took my buddy out, you know?

"Shit happens.
He was wearing a vest.

That didn't help out at all."

Lastly...

I'm gonna talk about pornography
for a moment.

Don't applaud it.

I'm not here to celebrate porn.

I'm here to--
yeah, I use it occasionally,

but that's the way I want
to frame it.

I can't believe how much porn
there is.

Do you ever really sit and think

just about how much fucking porn
there is?

Like, when did that happen?

How did life become so glorious

that there's that much porn
in the world?

Could you imagine?

If I were a 15-year-old boy

in the culture
that we live in now,

my head would fucking explode.

I would never leave my bedroom.

Could you imagine?

You would just be coming
like a monkey.

I'm 49.

Do you know how hard it was
to find porn

when I was, like, 14, 15?

I mean, you had to know a kid
who had a weird brother

or a dad with stash,

and then you'd have to keep
lookout in front of a bedroom

while he riffled through
a mattress.

You know?

Or you had to find one page
of a magazine

under a bridge somewhere
with your friends.

You'd all stand there
looking at it, like,

"Oh, man.
That's how it works.

I got a funny feeling
in my pants."

And then you, like, go back
there every day for a month

to see if the rest
of the magazine showed up.

You know, as if there were
porn trolls

out distributing it at night.

"Put more filth out
for the children.

"They must learn somewhere.

"Come.
More bridges.

Sunrise is soon."

It was hard to find, man,

and I think some computers
come with porn on them now.

Like, you just pop open
a new computer,

they're are people fucking
on it.

I'm just--this is like
a warning.

I don't celebrate porn.

You know, I use it.

I just think you got
to be careful.

You don't want to be too excited
about porn.

It's a drug,
and it's dangerous,

and I'll establish that
in the next few minutes.

I mean, look.

Like, if you ever are excited
to the point

where you're about
to watch porn,

and you go, "Yes,"

you're already in trouble.

You're in trouble.

You shouldn't be that excited
about it.

I think the moment that you
decide to watch porn,

you should probably be working
on something else.

You're alone in your office
or your home office,

and you're just, like,
plugging away at something

and you have that moment,
you're like, "Oh, fuck this.

"This is bullshit.

"I'm not gonna finish this.

"This isn't my fucking life.

Why am I--oh, fuck it."

Ding.
"Ahh."

That's when you should
watch porn,

when you're falling down
the pit of self,

and the only thing you can do
to stop your fall

is to grab hold of your cock.

Now--and I'm sorry
if this is specific.

A woman came up to me,
and she's like,

"You know,
women watch porn too."

And I'm like, "Yeah, but I'm not
in a position

"to really mock that when I--

I can't sit up there
and like..."

Do you remember the first time
you saw a woman masturbating,

like, in person?

You were like, "Oh, my God.

That thing can really take
a beating."

You know, as a dude,
you were sort of like,

"Oh, I want to take care
of that fragile flower,"

and they're like,
"No! No!

"We're driving somewhere.
Get on it!

Ahh!"

Holy fuck.

Um, so what am I saying?

Oh.

Just don't watch too much,

'cause you'll get porn brain,

and it's like--
it's a condition

that I think I've, you know--
I've diagnosed.

Like, I think that, like, you
should just keep it in check.

Like, never download porn.

Always go to free sites
for the humility

of picking a clip.

It's very important to be
very aware of who you are

and what you're doing
when you're picking your clip.

You know, make sure your
lower self is obviously engaged,

but don't let your higher self
get too far away.

Let it hover.

And just look down on yourself
as you're sitting there alone,

going, "Uh.

"Oh, fuck.
That's pretty good.

"Oh, how many people
are in there?

"That's not a real strip club.

"Where the fuck is that
wallpaper from?

"That's some weird Baltic porn
or something.

"Oh, shit.
That's the one.

"Oh, bookmark it.
Save her for when you finish.

There might be a better one."

And don't be afraid to let
your higher self

rise up out of you and look down
upon you in judgment and say,

"Look at you, little man!

"Locked in a cage of self,

"hitting a button for pleasure
like a rat,

"you sad little man.

Tragic."

But don't be afraid to look up
at him and go,

"Shut the fuck up!
I'm doing this now.

"I'll hook up with you again
later.

Don't be a buzzkill, fuckface."

Now...

the bigger point
I'm trying to make is,

I don't think that our brains
are equipped

to take in as much fucking

as we're allowed to take in
on porn, all right?

We're just people.

Like, if you sit and watch porn,

like, if you're compulsive
about it,

like, in a half hour

you can watch at least 15
different sexual situations.

How is our brain meant
to handle that?

I mean, we're just animals.

I mean, even if you're
a fucking monkey

and you're up in a tree

and there's a couple of sets
of monkeys fucking,

I mean, you're, like,
"All right, that's two.

That's plenty."

You know, like, but if there
were 20,

you'd be like, "What the fuck
is happening to the monkeys?"

So...

So I'm just saying,
it fucks with your head,

and I think that we're
doing damage.

Let me try to illustrate it
another way.

Let's create an analogy.

All right, you're at the end--
you're at the end of a hallway.

It looks like a hotel hallway.

There's 15 doors,
and they're all open.

And in each one of the rooms,

there are people fucking
somehow, all right,

and you start jerking off
at the end of the hallway,

and then you just stand in front
of every door going,

"Holy shit.
What the fuck is that?

"How many people are in there?

That's not a real strip club."

And then you just come on the
floor at the end of the hallway.

If that day happened
in your life,

you would never forget it
as long as you live.

But, no, now you can just
do that in a half hour

right at your fucking desk,

and you think it's not fucking
with your head?

Don't get porn brain.

Here's how you know if you have
porn brain.

If you ever detach from the porn
long enough

to have a real
sexual experience,

if you ever walk into a room
with a person that you're with

that you're about
to have sex with,

and for a split second when
you walk into that situation

you think,
"Where's the other guy?"

You'll have porn brain.
You know?

If you go for that split second,
you're like,

"Oh, fuck, it's me.
This is an interactive thing.

There is no other guy.
I'm the guy."

That's when you know when
you've watched too much.

Thank you very much, folks.

You've been great.

Thank you.

I appreciate you coming out.

Thank you.

[cheers and applause]

[indistinct chatter]

Oh, my God.

That was pretty good.

- Hey, Marc.
- Yeah?

- That was incredible, man.
- Thank you.

We good?
We good?

- Did it.
- We did it.

That one felt good, man.

- Oh, my God.

- So--okay, so you think
we did all right?

- Oh, yeah.
It was awesome.

It was a triumph.

- Thank--yes!

- It's a triumph.

- We triumphed.

- You triumphed.
- You triumphed.

- Own it.

- We sat around, talking shit.

- No, you definitely could have
done it without us.

- Okay.

But here's how--this is what
I learned from my mother.

You always punctuate
a declarative with a question.

"I triumphed.
Right?"

- [laughs]

- Um, so how are the kids?

- They're doing great.

- You know, I got to do it.

I've got a window till July.

She wants me to start pumping
the stuff into her in July.

- The soylent green?
- Yeah.

I hope better than that.

I noticed that guys
who don't have kids,

after a certain age,

there's something wrong with
them, I think, a little bit.

Like, I'm already self-centered,

so I think it can only
get worse.

If I don't have kids,
what have I contributed?

What am I gonna--like, "Here's
my DVD from that special I did.

That's what I've offered
the world."

Why not have some other
fucked-up thing in the world?

- Another mouth for the world
to feed.

- Yeah, that's the other side
of it too.

- That's the other side.

- Yeah.
I just wonder--

- Well, you could say,
"My kid's gonna be the one

that cures cancer."

- Do people still say
that kind of stuff?

- Or, you know,
"My kid's gonna be the one

that causes a lot of cancer."

You just don't know.

President of some chemical
corporation or something.

- Could go either way.

Or just some, you know,
random drug addict.

- Right.
- [laughing]

All right, good.
- Excellent. Let's cut.