Comedy. It’s not easy, is it. I wouldn’t know, I’m not remotely funny. All the humor that has been absorbed into my being comes from Simpsons quotes and old Bill Cosby records. Look where that’s gotten anybody! The Simpson family hasn’t been funny in at least seventeen years. Bill Cosby is … not in a good place. James Creelman probably doesn’t care about either of these things, obsessed as he is with jokes of the more non sequitur, dry, ha-ha look-at-me variety. His cringeworthy puns (“Hoote-nanny!”) are often repeated a few times to drive home how ridiculous they are. And the audience absolutely eats it up – they’re totally into it. Can’t ask for a better crowd. And maybe it’s because I, too, was tucked into bed as a child by a six-foot owl (I can’t believe I have someone to relate to), James Creelman, at times, speaks to me, his humor affecting my funny bone like a pie to the face or a flapping dickey. I find myself chuckling along at regular intervals. And hey, at least he’s not some hacky mimic!
James Creelman
--Ryan Masteller
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