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There’s two hours of my life I’ll never get back again…

There’s two hours of my life I’ll never get back again… published on No Comments on There’s two hours of my life I’ll never get back again…

Last night I watched The Aristocrats, primarily under duress, because we had to return it before the late fees became atrocious. The Aristocrats features scores of prominent comedians yammering about a show-biz in-joke that is not really that funny, then analyzing what makes that joke so compelling.

Some of this analysis, such as humor as a recharging and life-affirming mechanism in the face of depressing events, is interesting, but I don’t need such a lesson attenuated to 90 minutes when I could have gotten it in 60.

After the mild interest of playing “Who The Hell Is THAT?,” you’re left with a lot of navel-gazing by a bunch of show-offs, some of which are excruciatingly annoying. [I’m talking about YOU, Gilbert Gottfried, you pathetic, stale, attention-sucking whore. Likewise Sarah Silverman and Robin Williams should just go the hell away.] 

Finally, The Aristocrats is also an astoundingly disappointing showcase of the limits of the human imagination. Anyone who talks to you about the boundless potential of the human brain should watch this documentary and learn the truth. The limits of the human imagination are incest and shit, both of which can be hilarious if handled [im]properly, but which are just boring here. Give me South Park any day [but only up to season 10 — the 11th is belabored, esoteric and uninteresting].

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