Ever since I discovered him via a small role in the movie Gentlemen Broncos, I’ve become obsessed. His videos on YouTube — telling stories at The Moth, giving a drunken tour of his home, clips from his plays — are unspeakably mesmerizing, so much so I’ve watched each of them at least ten times…
The transformation from pale skinny ghostman into slightly paler slightly skinnier ghostman was one that occurred with shocking speed, and once it’d taken place, I no longer walked but slunk, no longer ate but gobbled, no longer looked at things but stared ominously.
‘Why is he scurrying around?’ you wonder. ‘Why won’t he let me go to sleep?’ These questions don’t concern me because I’m a wild animal with a tiny brain, and most of my behavior is based on operant conditioning principles.
After seeing it a third time, I stood up, pointed at the window, and declared, “Justin, there’s something going on out there!” He said, “What?” I said, “Suspicious activities transpiring by your driveway. Someone in a black coat keeps running past the window.”
As a toddler, so I am told, my diet consisted of healthy foods like broccoli, green beans, pineapple, peas, and other such unpalatable toxic plant poison. All these disgusting nonfoods were consumed without complaint, were even requested—the mind reels in disbelief. Why would that happen? Why would I do that?
I’ve watched every movie, listened to every band, read every article on the internet, viewed every meme. I’ve seen all the TV shows, all the YouTube videos, all the paintings, all the gifs. I’ve read all the books, all the comics, all the magazines, all the poems, all the restaurant menus. I’ve heard every podcast, every song, every comedy album, everything anyone’s ever said aloud.
I finally break down and read a book. A book! My roommate says, “You’re reading? What is this? The 1800s?” I say, “I know, right? Reading a book is like lighting your house with candles or buying music legally — anachronistic.” He says, “What does that word mean?” I say, “Who cares!” And then we laugh and laugh and laugh.
Earlier this week, after performing an undoubtedly hilarious improv scene, one of my classmates grabbed my arm. There must have been a perfectly reasonable context for this because when I jerked away and shouted, “I am being touched! What is happening? What are you doing?” everyone acted like I was being weird.
You hear someone behind you—it’s an old man dressed in your clothes. He says, “No one will ever love you. You’ll never get married, you’ll never even have another girlfriend, and when you die, it’ll be alone in a rented apartment in a town where no one ever knows your name.”
This movie has a 93% on Rotten Tomatoes, which disturbs me because it makes me feel like my reaction is incorrect or that I failed to view it in the right mindset. I want to be a part of the zeitgeist, I want to like good things, and honestly, I enjoyed a huge portion of the first half of the movie…