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…was fucking hilarious at Assscat last night. Lutz was like the silent-set-up guy in a bunch of the sketches (Jon Lutz is a writer for SNL and a plays “Lutz” on 30 Rock. How awesome is that? I would die happy if I got to play me on a comedy show with as many Emmys as 30 Rock. Or just on be on 30 Rock, I guess). I get the impression that it’s much easier to be hilarious when you’re working with a bunch of really funny people saying really funny things instead of sitting around and crafting a situation that can make the host look funny. What I mean is, I really think SNL should go back to the good old days where the show was improvised and the people who hosted were hilarious instead of visiting in order to promote the movie they’re in next week.

I mean, seriously. Moynihan provided at least three running jokes throughout the entire show. I cried after one his punchlines and continued to laugh at markedly un-funny things in the next sketch when I thought about the punchline again. And yet, when he’s on SNL, he gets to be the supporting actor and say two to three lines–most of which aren’t the funniest lines that have been written. After last night it’s become clear it’s not him and it’s not Lutz. It can’t be anything but the medium.

SNL has the potential to be, according to my calculations, at least 5 times funnier if they would just take it old school but get a censor and broadcast it with a seven second delay because these people are absolutely filthy. But in a good way.

The saddest thing about coming to understand all this is that I know it won’t happen. SNL needs their hosts to be highly recognizable actors to ring in adoring fans and the entertainment industry wants big names on the show because they know it’s “free” advertising. It’s a vicious cycle where we keep tuning in even though we know we’re really only getting mediocre comedy. Perhaps we compromise because we know the host or hostess won’t be totally repellant–they have to have some sort of talent to get there, right? Right?–and that it beats crying yourself to sleep on a Saturday. Or we’re just there for the bands. (Shout out to my boys who rule the lands of Leon. Also, cheer up and cut your hair, Louis Vuitton Don of Emo.)

Oh, Adulthood. You smell of compromise and kind-of-giggle-worthy jokes.

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