Read Laugh Lines: Conversations With Comedians Online
Authors: Corey Andrew,Kathleen Madigan,Jimmy Valentine,Kevin Duncan,Joe Anders,Dave Kirk
Corey: Something I always appreciated was you were never afraid to shy away from gay subject matter and characters. Was that hard to get on ABC at the time?
Roseanne: Oh yeah. That show in particular, they said they weren’t gonna air. Then I’m just gonna get huger press about it. You’d probably be doing yourself a favor to not make a big deal about it or else it will be everywhere. There was a guy who worked there who I actually liked, and he made some right decisions now and again, and I think that was a good one to let it go. They didn’t want me to have Halloween either. They said the Bible Belt doesn’t like Halloween. To think that my show was one of the first shows that had a Halloween theme was pretty freaky. I just did it because they told me people from the Bible Belt wouldn’t like it. Whatever they tell me not to do, or did, I’m not so much like that now, because I’m old. But I was just so full of bitterness. If they’d tell me I couldn’t do something, I did it.
Corey: Did you get any personal feedback from people in the Bible Belt?
Roseanne: It’s just what Hollywood thought. There aren’t any real people like that. There aren’t any real people who don’t like Halloween. It’s just a bunch of crap; they just make stuff up.
Corey: When you did the last episode, why did you decide to make your sister, Jackie, gay?
Roseanne: Because it was based on my life, and my sister’s gay, and so is my brother. I went into television because I thought it would be cool to see someone tell something truthful about their lives. I had a lot of gay people in my family, and I just wanted to push that point because it’s true.
Corey: Why don’t we see families like the Connors on TV anymore?
Roseanne: Because they’re working class, and there are no more working class people in this country, let alone on TV. It’s a class that has been literally crushed to death, and that’s the truth.
Corey: It’s sad because now, they would probably class Roseanne in as a housewife even though she worked job after job after job. There aren’t men and women that can stay home. They all work and have to raise the kids at the same time.
Rosanne: You used to be able to afford a house and put away money for your kids’ college education. Well, you can’t do that anymore. It’s not possible and that’s another sitting-idle-while-Rome-burns thing that’s going on.
Corey: Looking back, do you have a favorite Becky?
Roseanne: They just both did great. I just love Sarah Chalke. First of all, my favorite, I chose Lecy Gorenson to play Becky from the start, and she was real sassy; I always liked her. Then when Sarah Chalke came in and took over, that is so hard to come in and take over. I just have a lot of admiration for her, too; both of them. They’re both really cool young women. And to see them now, and Michael (Fishman), too, who played the son. He’s got two kids; that’s crazy. I kind of think of them fondly almost like they’re in my family.
Corey: Sure, because they spent a lot of their formative years around you a lot. Do you feel like you had a parental influence on them?
Roseanne: Yeah, they say that. That’s nice. Thank God they’re not out robbing and shooting. I tried to help them stay grounded. I tried to help the kids on the show know it was just a bullshit job and didn’t mean anything personal.
Corey: When do you feel the show was at its absolute best?
Roseanne: That’s real subjective. It was good a lot. We did a lot of different things with that show. There were a lot of things I enjoyed doing.
Corey: When people say something about Roseanne Barr and singing they automatically go to the baseball thing, so I think it’s cool that you made a kids’ album. Is this a ‘grandma’ thing you wanted to do?
Roseanne: It was a grandma thing, and it was prompted by—as I say—the unfortunate singing accident. It was a huge, huge impact on my life. My kids saw on the Internet that I was voted the worst singer that ever lived. That made me sad because my whole life I’ve liked singing. I knew there was no way around it because that’s how it’s always going to be. Then I thought, ‘Hey, what would it be like to be the world’s worst singer that got better?’ Because I don’t want to leave something negative like that behind. It’s kind of cool, I can be the world’s worst singer who got better, and I put a lot of time into actually getting better. And I did, and I’m proud of it, and I didn’t let it kill me.
In comedy circles, the words genius, general and maestro get tossed around describing Paul Mooney. Even the man himself—who was Richard Pryor’s best pal and one of his writers—claims that stand-up would be different had he never walked on stage.
After his take on historical seer Nostradamus—dubbed Negrodamus on “Chapelle’s Show”—where else could comedian Paul Mooney go but up?
Right up to the top: Jesus.
On the cover of his concert DVD, “Know Your History: Jesus was Black…So was Cleopatra,” Mooney dons the visage of Christ.
Corey: Are you trying to get people’s ire up with you as Jesus?
Paul Mooney: What did you want me to say, ‘Jesus was white’? What is, is is. It’s not up for discussion. Everyone knows Jesus was black. They’re all in denial.
Corey: How do you feel when people are so shocked by your comedy that they leave during a performance?
Mooney: That means I still have my magic. If I don’t make anybody run out, that means I’ve lost my magic.
Corey: What would cause someone to storm out of the comedy show?
Mooney: It’s the truth, so they can’t take it. It’s in their face, and they can’t take it. I also talk about the master. I’m automatically the enemy of the state. All minorities think like the master. See, if the master likes me, then they don’t like me. The master don’t like me, they don’t like me. They’re all in the house, you know how that goes. It’s the truth. That’s the way it is. Automatically I’m the enemy. The only reason they got mad at Mel Gibson is he’s a white man, ’cause he told on white folks. Other than that, they wouldn’t be mad at him. See the Jews don’t run nothin’; they make you think they do. That’s an old Roman trick. I’ve washed my hands. You hear people talk about the Jews. The Jews this and the Jews that. You don’t hear them talkin’ about white folks. When you start talking about white folks, everything changes. That’s the way it is.
Corey: You get a lot of respect from other comics. How did you earn their appreciation?
Mooney: Listen, I get it from them and the rappers. This is what I hear. I hear ‘genius.’ ‘General,’ they call me ‘General.’ Robin Williams calls me ‘Maestro.’ He was the leader of the man, that’s what they say to me. The reason is, if I hadn’t done stand-up, stand-up would be different. The whites, blacks, Latinos, whatever, I kicked the door in for them. They were scared ’til I started doing it. The difference between Richard Pryor and Dick Gregory is they talk to white people; I talk about them. That’s a gift from God. Things come out of my mouth. They’re shocked? I’m shocked.
I said something about black women last night. It’s ornate; it comes from God. Last night I was talking about black women, how a black woman will do anything for you and that’s true. I said, ‘They’ll do anything for you—and to you.’ Now, see, am I right or wrong?
Corey: You’ve been involved with Civil Rights for 30 years. Were you ever scared?
Mooney: No. I’ve always been what they call militant, radical, uppity. I was born in the South. I’ve always been like that. My grandmother’s influence. My grandmother always taught me I was better than anybody, black, white, red, yellow. I was all that and a bowl of grits. I loved that old lady. She was a trip, OK?
And would beat anybody’s ass. Yours, mine, anybody else’s. And she only said something once. She’d say, ‘Are you hard of hearing? You better go to the ear doctor.’ She never repeated herself. Talk about whipping kids (referring to a proposed law where parents would not be able to spank their children). She would be on death row. ‘I’m whoopin’ ass this mornin’. I’m passin’ out lollipops and ass whoopin’s and I’m fresh out of lollipops.’
She’d say, ‘A dog better bring a bone or take one.’ And ‘Always talkin’ about the grass is greener on the other side, but remember what they got to put on their grass to make it green?’ The females in my family, they’d stay gone three or four days and she’d go off. ‘You retarded-ass bitch, you come back here broke? Didn’t I ever teach you anything? Don’t you know that a wet pussy and a dry purse don’t match?’
She was a mess as you can see. That’s where I got my sense of humor. She would tell the truth, but funny. That ability, I realized that was a way to get people to listen and think.
Corey: In the past, your comedy was littered with the ‘N’ word, but after the Michael Richards thing, you’ve retired it?
Mooney: I want to live in a world where there is no ‘N’ word. I’ve been touched. Richard was the first to stop using it after he went to Africa. I was married to the word. I couldn’t see the ‘N’ word for the forest. Now I’m divorced from it. And Michael Richards—who I’ve known for 20 years—when I saw that video, I went into shock. And it’s hard to shock me, OK?
The word’s not an equal opportunity word. Little Latin kids, Asians, white kids, everybody’s using it. And they say ‘We spell it with an “a” instead of the “e.”’ It doesn’t matter. If you cook a goat, whether you sauté it or barbecue it, it’s still a goat.
Corey: Why don’t more people in the country want to talk about race and prejudice in the country?
Mooney: Bill Cosby’s the only person I’ve never seen talk about race. Must be voodoo, because he never mentioned it on stage. Off stage he would. The only racial joke I saw Bill Cosby make, Bill, Dionne Warwick and myself, we were doing a tribute to Ella Fitzgerald, and Mel Torme was alive then, and he sounds black. We were behind the stage, and Bill was emceeing. And I said, ‘Tell Mel to stop pretending he’s white; we all know he’s black.’ Bill got on stage, ‘Mel Torme ought to stop playing…’ and he took it out of my mouth, and I was stunned. He was an ambassador for white folks.
Corey: You talk about all groups. Who do you catch the most flack from?
Mooney: You know me. It’s an equal opportunity thing to get you. It’s a racial thing. America. Melting pot. With Michael Richards, I felt part of it, because I was an ambassador for the ‘N’ word. I felt responsible. White America should definitely take responsibility. Just like a pimp said, ‘All women have whore in them. It just takes the right man to bring it out in them.’