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@evanfordebarden
photos from the first ever Power Joker. we're back with a brand new show on 1/25 featuring disability justice organizer Eman Rimawi-Doster, comedians Shannon DeVido and Ashley Glicken, journalist Tim Donnelly, and live music from Josh Nasser. Plus, lots more fun from The Triborough Authority Players and old Bobby Moses himself.
What if RM hosted The Tonight Show? Comedy, special guests, music, and more.
What if RM hosted The Tonight Show? Comedy, special guests, music, and more.
for any fans of Robert Caro's biography of Robert Moses, The Power Broker, i am putting up a new comedy show in NYC next week called The Power Joker. it's a "late night" talk show hosted my RM himself. the theme of the show is tolls and we've got a congestion pricing expert joining us, Charles Komanoff, along with the hosts of The Climate Denier's Playbook, Rollie Williams and Nicole Conlan. Plus a bunch of other great comedians and music from Zenizen. it's in NY, but also available to stream.
Sunday, Nov 3, 5pm
Caveat, 21A Clinton St
My new planner that will change everything!!! vs 33 years of being me
#believewomen https://www.instagram.com/p/BoKS_zfF7T3/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=19zb2kz35ifud
It’s pretty simple!
Saying goodbye to UCB Chelsea has not been easy. Last night, it hit me harder than I expected.
Please give this part of my life a read.
When the swamp about to be lit
Please help me understand something. I really want to get this right. A friend posted a video by Prince Ea with a description that said "I am not black. You are not white. These are labels created to divide us". And then the video basically goes on to say that we're all one human race. I've always felt (and POC friends have said) that when you deny someone's blackness/asianness/etc... that is also problematic. You're much more equipped to speak on this topic and I'd like to hear your opinion.
Yeeeah I really can’t with the colorblindness rhetoric. There’s nothing wrong with seeing me as black. Cause. I’m black! lol The problem is treating me as less than because of my blackness. Not to mention, why does my blackness need to be “erased” in order to see me as human? That’s beyond messed up.Â
Prince Ea has the right to define or not define himself however he wants, but regardless, the world will see him as black. “We’re all one race” doesn’t do anything to address the very real oppression and discrimination people of color face. It’s like putting a bandaid on a head wound. Racism is the problem. Not race. The goal should be to promote a world where we’re treated equally regardless of our differences rather than pretending our differences don’t exist or play a role in who we are.Â
RACISM IS THE PROBLEM. NOT RACE.
How many times has this happened to you? You’re out somewhere with your best friends when you meet a cute guy who is end…
READ THIS AND LAUGH.
The Craziest Thing I’ve Ever Written
Okay. Let’s get back to One Hundred Dates. I’ve been telling myself this since I stopped writing last year, but now I’m really here to do it. (It’s one of my 2015 goals.) To catch you up with where I’m at, romantically, I had a girlfriend for the first part of this year and I broke up with her about eight weeks ago. I still feel very strange about it. I may actually regret it. Keep in mind, this was my first girlfriend since She Who Shall Not Be Named back in 2010. Anyway, that’s where I’m at, but that’s not what this post is about.
In order to usher in this new era of OHD, I want to share with everyone what I think might be the scariest, craziest thing I’ve ever written.
To preface this little story, I’d like to make very clear for anyone who does not know me that I typically come off as quite stoic, perhaps a bit serious, and, some may even say, emotionless. This was something I only began to recognize during my year of OHD. I had numerous women tell me that I was a tough read. Many others were completely surprised when I indicated interest in them, because I’d given them no reason to expect such a thing. Both of these things still happen. I’ve been processing my muted behavior for the last four years and I’m still not quite sure what to make of it, because I don’t feel like an emotionless person. In fact, I often have so many emotions that my blank expression is more indicative of indecision than anything else. To put it nicely, I come off as a “head over heart” sort of individual.
Several months ago, I was sorting my GoogleDrive files and found some real gems. A turkey chili recipe. Abandoned stand-up premises. Florentine travel guides. A lot of random stuff. Then I stumbled across a document artlessly titled “January.” I had no idea what it was, so I opened it up.
As I started reading it, I felt a swell of darkness in my gut so dense that I was afraid I might implode on myself. I suddenly remembered “January.” How on Earth could I forget it? It was the worst of me, written down and saved to the cloud, presumably to be dug up by TMZ upon the time of my unfortunate, yet highly-publicized, death.
Keep reading
My Computer Is My Life
I know that some people say that their computer is their life because they spend all of their time on it, but I mean this in a far more metaphorical sense.
For the last four or five weeks, my computer has been nothing but frustrating. First, the startup disk got full again and I had to dump a bunch of data onto an external hard drive. Then the charger stopped working consistently. I just bought this charger a few months ago. Anytime I want to charge my computer I have to play with the power adapter for several minutes before it gives a continuous charge and then any little bump or nudge it receives will cause it to stop charging. The most effective method to get it to charge seems to be: put as much pressure on it as possible, get the light to come on, and then hold it for another 30 seconds. Then, I slowly release my grip on the adapter and hope that it keeps charging. It’s a constant case of plugging and unplugging, trying the same thing over and over again, just so I can get my computer to work. To make matters worse, it seems like my computer’s battery is on it’s last leg. It can barely hold a charge for an hour! When I got this MacBook Air back in 2012, the battery life was amazing. I started writing this piece five minutes ago and I’ve lost at least 10% of my battery in that time. I have 32% left. That’s how long I have to finishing writing this, I guess. I’m thinking about getting a new battery and a(nother) new power adapter, but they both cost money and it’s money that I don’t really have. What I really need is a new computer, but that’s financially out of the question right now.
So, that’s my life. If you want to know where I’m at, look at my computer.
My startup disk had too much data. Too many options for career, love, friendship, and everything else. I couldn’t handle all the options, all the choices, and all the work, so I dumped a huge portion of it onto my girlfriend — by breaking up with her. The only problem with putting data on an external hard drive is that as soon as you take your laptop somewhere, you leave that data behind. You can’t access it when you might need it most and you won’t know you need it most until it’s too late. I wish I had more internal storage, but that’s just not what EvanBook Airs are designed for! We’re designed to be lightweight, highly-portable, and ultimately, not intended for power users. I’m good for a little while, but I’m not a Pro.
A fucking charger that won't charge. Christ. What an analogy! It seems like no matter what I do lately, I just can’t get myself charged up for anything significant. Improv shows? Old friends? Beers in my face? Sure. I can get excited about those. But work? Writing? Women? None of it is sticking. None of the stuff I feel anxious about is staying charged. It’s just like this damn power adapter. I might get one good charge in a day. Then I hope that the next day, I’ll get another full charge. I usually do and it gets be by for that day. But what happens when my charger just gives up one day and won’t even charge my computer once? Then I’m fucked. I can’t work. I can’t communicate. I can’t live my regular life. I have 11% left on this charge and I don’t know that I’ll make it. The last time my charger was busted, I borrowed one from a friend. I’ve been borrowing a lot of charges from a lot of friends over the past eight weeks (talking about emotional charges, dudes) and I’m getting tired of it. I want to be able to sustain myself again. I pride myself on being independent and lately, I’ve been anything but.
Even once it’s charged, my computer barely stays alive. As I said before, I get maybe an hour out of a full charge with continual use. It’s frustrating as all hell. This is a Mid 2011 machine. It’s four years old and it seems like it might be on it’s way out. I need a major change, but I can’t afford one. I left my full time software job almost two years ago without a real plan. I still haven’t made a real plan. I still keep thinking that work and success will find me. It’s getting old. But, I like my life. I don’t really want a new one. I just want the one I have to work better. Much like my computer though, I’m not sure how to make that happen. I can try replacing a few components, but that only might work. Eventually, I’ll have to get a new machine.
But then we’re back to the options. Do I get something even more stripped down, something beefier, or do I just replace this one with the latest version of itself? Those decisions take time and money and I don’t have a lot of either.
For now, I think I’ll get a new battery and try to install it myself. Despite the fact that going to a professional would be a better bet, I’m gonna try to fix this myself, as always. Then I’ll get a new charger and take it from there.
My computer got all the way down to 4% before I ran to my kitchen, found an outlet, and forced my charger to work. We’re back up to 9% and I’m not gonna unplug it until I’m fully charged. That’ll be good for today.
Want to get involved in next week’s The Chris Gethard Show?
ACTUAL talk show host Seth Meyers joins TCGS as we attempt to put on a show… after nearly two days of no sleep. We will be legitimately sleep deprived, and it’s going to turn into a legitimate fiasco.Â
We want you to Skype in during our Tuesday 6/9 taping and tell us about your experiences with sleep deprivation. Leave us a message ASAP on Skype, and our producers will get in touch if we want to put you on the show!
We’re also joined by the very loud musical guest Screaming Females! Â
This is going to be a nightmare fever dream of an episode, and we hope you’ll be a part of it!Â
This seems like an awesome idea. i have to be up in two hours. Everything fits.
Hey. Let’s help change how white the internet is. Check out the link below for more information: http://www.worldwhiteweb.net/
Could have sworn...
Go Badgers
It was the day of the NCAA Mens Basketball Finals, the conclusion of the month-long celebration many know as March Madness, wherein the University of Wisconsin Badgers were going up against the Duke University Blue Devils, and I spent the day pretending to be a Badger.
Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn — My girlfriend of something like two months is not only a Wisconsin alumna but a Madison native, though one who rarely shows signs of hometown or collegiate pride, and she's even named Maddy — Maddy from Madison. I woke that morning while she dressed for work, and just as I rolled back to extend my slumber, Maddy held up a quarter-zip sweatshirt that said "WISCONSIN" across it and encouraged me to wear it that day. I grumbled something affirmative and returned my head to the pillow.
Star-wipe to hours later. I've consumed her breakfast, used her hot water, and bummed her bandwidth all before my day has officially begun. The clothes I'd worn to Easter the day before are back on my body and I eye the WISCONSIN sweatshirt. I'd almost forgotten that I'd agreed to wear it and debated the decision for a moment.
Would I really be the boyfriend with no favorite team of his own, who simply adopts his girlfriend's allegiance? Look at me. Twenty-nine years old, no full-time job, losing hair at an impressive clip, and worrying about how rooting for a college other than my own might make me look. I wondered what I was trying to prove. And to whom?
Frying pan to the head. Duh. I wanted to show my girlfriend that I cared more about her than about my hang ups. I'd always been strict in my loyalties and unwavering in my hatred for bandwagon fans. But I wasn't jumping on the Wisconsin bandwagon, I was jumping on the Maddy bandwagon. So, up and over it went, and a Badger I became.
Crown Heights, Brooklyn — Pull out to reveal my tax accountant's office. I was there for our introductory meeting. What I lack in full-time employment and career goals, I make up for with financial responsibility. Lori came to greet me, took one look at my sweatshirt, and told me, "This was meant to be." She was a Badger herself and immediately seemed to give me the benefit of the doubt. Even when I lied to her about possible additional income, I could sense that she innately trusted me. After all, I was a Badger.
Smash cut to a train platform. I had left the accountant behind to catch a train to Manhattan, when a tall young man stopped me mid-stride. Talking over my guilt, he explained that he was a high school senior raising money for a big basketball tournament that weekend. He caught himself mid-sentence and pointed to my sweatshirt as he told me he was going to attend Wisconsin next year. He told me to keep an eye out for him. If the next guy had been wearing a Blue Devils hat, maybe he'd have been going to Duke next year. I don't know, but the kid seemed sincere. Either way, I lied and said I had no cash. Go Badgers!
Korea Town, Manhattan — Montage. Getting off of the train and walking to my part time job, I spotted other Badgers among the crowd. A small head nod here and lingering eye contact there. Jay-walking with pride, I felt a part of something bigger than myself. Of course though, I wasn't actually a part of anything. I was just wearing a Women's Small Jansport and putting on a smile for the day.
Kips Bay, Manhattan — Dissolve to evening. Entering the Badger-packed bar was cool, like stepping into a meeting of Skull and Bones, but also nerve-racking, since everyone knew at first glance that Yale was out of the question for me. Dozens of people, decked out in Wisconsin gear, turned to look at me as I made my way to the back of the bar. As each of them turned, I braced for one to say, "Hey! You!! Yeah, you, dickhead. You don't belong here!!! Get your New England loving ass out of this bar!" Instead, and much to my relief, I drifted right by them, as though I'd been made invisible by the magic sweatshirt on my body. I blended in like apple to a juice cocktail. I was a Badger and the bar was my sett, so I dug right in and raised a class to Wisconsin.
For the next two hours, the sweatshirt allowed me to cheer for a team I barely knew, shake hands with guys I'd just met, and share the communal sorrow of losing an NCAA Finals game to a team everyone fucking hates. We'll get them next year, boys.
