Monday Lite: Gwyneth Paltrow's Kid Is The Only One Who Will Talk To Her
I don't envy professional comedians, especially the really successful ones. I think when people meet Robin Williams out in public, say if he's looking at mangos in the supermarket, trying to find the right ones to buy (in my imagination, all famous comedians love, love, love their tropical fruits... Carrot Top, I think, probably can't get enough guava) instead of juggling them or smashing them together or pretending their talking to one another using some of those ker-razy voices he does, they'd be horrified. "What? Oh my God, look at him. He's just... he keeps feeling those mangos. Oh! And now he's going for the plastic bag. Is that all? That can't be all! One of his children must have died or something. Robin, we love you!"

The only reaction that might actually be worse would be is if people were to come up to him at the mango bin and mistake his mundane puttering for some kind of secretly hilarious comedic performance art that everyone but Mr. Williams would get. A crowd might form, everyone circling around, tittering and giggling as he squeezed the mangoes (is it mangos or mangoes? I just realized I should have said "papaya"), women would shield their children's eyes from the subtle, subversive perversion of it all while trying not to laugh themselves sick. "Look at funny Mork! He's hilarious!" And of course with an already expectant crowd, poor Robin would be obliged to juggle or smash some fruit together or make them talk in ker-razy voices. And we wonder why they all drink so much and take so so many of the drugs.

I don't want to belabor this too much, because I see where it will probably end up. And nobody wants to talk about the vile cliché of the Sad Clown, least of all me. I would just like to say how grateful I am that I have an anonymous humor blog instead of being a comedic performer, for two reasons: 1) stage-fright anxiety attacks where I choke on my own vomit and die and 2) nobody fucks with me if I want to buy a passion fruit.

All that said, there really should be some aspects of a comedian's life where his or her art should not come into play. Say, for instance, the names of your children. Groucho, Harpo, Zeppo, Whoopi Goldberg, all those famous Jewish comedians changed their names as adults and by choice as conscious decisions in hopes of furthering their careers.

But sometimes the little babies... the poor, poor defenseless little babies...

Well, I can't even talk about it, it's so upsetting. Here's the whole article if you want to read it. I present it without further commentary and I bid you good day.

Jillette Names Daughter Moxie CrimeFighter

Sat Jun 4,10:39 PM ET

NEW YORK - Comedian/magician Penn Jillette's latest stunt did not involve his usual sidekick, Teller: He became the father of a baby girl.

Jillette, 50, and his wife Emily, 39, welcomed Moxie CrimeFighter Jillette on Friday, according to publicist Glenn Schwartz. It was the first child for the couple, who married last year.
"We chose her middle name because when she's pulled over for speeding she can say, `But officer, we're on the same side,'" Jillette explained. "`My middle name is CrimeFighter.'"

The typically mute Teller had no comment on the new arrival.

Penn & Teller currently star in their own series on Showtime, and headline nightly in Las Vegas at the Rio All-Suite Hotel & Casino.
- posted by Pops @ 1:14 PM