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Welcome back
to another exciting episode of Bad Halo Comix Magazine. You must be sick of
Facebook. Why else would you be wasting your time here? Well take a break from
killing all those game requests and settle in.
This is a
big one, as we define ourselves as a true comics magazine (I refuse to use the word "ezine"). You’re always going to
get our signature on-going series “JOSEPH!” featuring your favorite 14 year old
savior, but we’re now including great comic comics from great comics creators
with “Wages of Sin” by Keith Brown and “Cat Jesus” by J.J. Robinson. And we’re going to stay
on the look-out for more great comic comics. We’ve got the time so what else
are we gonna do?
A few
columns are making their debuts this issue. “Pediatric Parables” features a
short story so heretical you may slit your wrist and ask the devil for a deal. And as previously promised (to
appease our lawyers) “The Bible” begins. The writer swears it was dictated from
golden tablets by the Anti-Christ himself.
Most
appalling in this issue is the premier of our column “Frantic: The Interview
Page” with (the one and only!) comedian Dale Jones! What? A comic in a comics magazine? That’s just crazy! And so is Dale. It’s an exclusive interview you will
not read anywhere else on the nets or in print. Of course, you could probably
just ask him your own questions. Not like we’re anybody special. Fine! Go ahead
and ask Dale your questions. *slams door*
Looking for
reviews about over-hyped movies, over-priced comic books, and over-stimulated
children? Go somewhere else. This is a magazine you won’t tell anyone about. In
which case, I hate you.
Love always,
David Paul
(wannabe)
Publisher
The Book of
JULIUS
In the beginning was a very long time ago. It spanned
way more time than we have the luxury to explore and so let’s skip ahead a bit.
Instead we’ll start with: Billions of years ago a miniscule mollusk named
Julius traveled at excessive speeds in the hopes of avoiding a collision with a
foreign object. Julius was the first of his kind to identify a celestial body.
Unfortunately it would not be celebrated, nor would accolades be heaped upon
Julius within the mollusk community, as the object just now entering the
Earth’s atmosphere meant the complete doom of every living organism on the
planet.
His day began
like so many others. He awoke in anticipation of the long-awaited event, more
than ready. At the Mollusk University of Spatial Anomalies Julius and his staff
would be testing the new telescope. It should be no surprise that mollusks were
technologically advanced billions of years ago. In fact they were the fathers
of invention until this very day.
Julius wobbled
his way to work, greeted his co-workers, complained about a lack of sleep,
flirted with Tiffany in accounting, and then situated himself before the
massive devise so many mollusks had given their lives to construct.
The foreign
object was not a surprise. For the better part of a decade it had grown to a
size that dwarfed the sun, and now it filled the entirety of the sky. Prestigious
colleagues argued on the matter during the construction of the telescope.
Seemed none could agree on how to identify the object. It was simply “unknown”.
And so, Julius beamed with the pride of knowledge that his was the single most
important work in the history of anything, anywhere – ever.
Upon the
realization of the object’s identity that beam of pride was snuffed. Julius
mechanically entered the identity into his notes, solving the riddle of what the heck is it? Then he backed away
from the telescope and considered what action could be taken that may secure
his own survival. Naturally this was not possible.
Julius took a
breath, as mollusks are wont to do. Then made the decision on his course of
action and exhaled with a shrill.
Had a single
soul on the other side of the planet been remotely aware of the doom that was
about to impact the surface of the opposite they might have ceased from
feasting on one another and prayed to Aros, the dinosaur God of Reaping. Many
celebrations were given in the name of Aros, mostly by the carnivores, thankful
for the flesh of the herbivores. The plant-eaters themselves regarded the
festivals as a good excuse to let loose and relax from the constant walking and
incessant chewing. As it was those oblivious hapless fools could not appreciate
this truly ironic moment, a flash from the camera of Time that froze them in
history and caused the sudden termination of a dinosaur god who was just
getting started.
Somewhere in
the middle of the planet, caught between the scientific geniuses (those
technologically advanced mollusks) and the religious (constantly eating)
dinosaurs lived the tiniest of moles by the name of Henry. Henry did not see
the blinding explosion in the sky but he did feel the impact all the way down
in his subterranean hovel. It shattered the world above but here, far below, it
merely knocked Henry’s belongings from off their shelves. If not for the framed
portrait of his mother that fell to the floor and cracked Henry would have
remained in bed. But it was his mother after all, and portraits of one’s mother
cannot remain on the floor.
Henry adjusted
and pulled himself out of bed. As he walked to the cracked portrait of his
mother he scratched his head and rubbed his eyes. He yawned and stretched, then
bent down, picked up the portrait and rose to place it back on the wall.
Outside his hovel
there was clamoring, but Henry was in the middle of putting his mother back in
her place and after this task he intended on putting himself back to bed.
Nothing was important enough to detract him.
While he
considered his mother was lucky he had even gotten out of bed to put her back
on the wall Henry had no idea just how lucky he himself was. At the center of
the local mole community a mass invasion of snakes was just canceled. Not due
to a lack of interest, certainly not.
Prehistoric
snakes were quite social, sharing nothing in common with snakes today, which
prefer hunting in solitude. When a secret mole entrance was uncovered Susanna,
the lovely snake queen, decided it best they should all descend on the moles
and do away with them for good. Queen Susanna led the charge, and just as she
was about to burst into Henry’s hovel the world above collapsed and crushed her
to death.
Henry’s
neighbors were mice, he believed. Or some other sort. He never paid attention,
nor did he care that as he was fiddling with his mother’s portrait they were
peaking their heads out of their homes to see what all the noise was about.
Seconds later they would wish they hadn’t.
Henry was once
again perturbed. The portrait was just right so he turned away from his mother’s
image and behind him it jumped from off the wall, the result of yet another
violent shake. Surprisingly Henry found himself face down on the floor. This
was getting tiresome.
The now angry
mole quickly rose and stomped toward the door. Whatever it was beyond that
portal it was rude enough to cause domestic inconveniences and someone had to
stop it. Henry didn’t like being the one to do so but it had to be done. He
opened the door.
His neighbors,
the mice-things, were carried away by a current of violent waters, their faces
smiling of death and their limp limbs waving to him as if to say goodbye. He
closed the door.
The last mole
on Earth returned to bed. Miracles were in abundance for the rest of his life,
which turned out to be much longer than expected.
Julius, on the
other hand, ended his credible life with a horrified grimace and a scream. The
impact of the giant rock colliding with his beloved planet caused such a shock
wave that it forced the mollusk’s body spinning into the upper atmosphere. He
was still alive when he gathered his senses. For a brief instant he considered
the possibility of an afterlife, a fact he never would have admitted to in the
circles he frequented. Maybe if he prayed Aros would have mercy and lend aid to
spare his life.
Plummeting from
the heights through the thick of ashes Julius realized he was coming down on
the other side of the planet, home of the religious dinosaurs. What hell was
this? He had given his life to the cause of reason and rational thought. His
passions burned for the achievements of science. If Aros existed that damned
dinosaur deity mocked him.
The charred
surface approached quickly. Julius accepted his death but he would not accept
dying in such a humiliating fashion. Below he spotted a means of hope.
A large
meat-eater caught in the act of evacuating his bowels had no idea what was
going on. One moment he was surrounded by the comfort of his favorite lavatory
trees, the next he was exposed, the world exploding around him. Burning stones
fell like rain and black snow piled high around him. His ears were filled with
an unfamiliar noise. Something was screaming.
With strength
he had not been able to muster before the meat-eater contorted the muscles in
his rather large, bulbous neck and turned in such a way to allow him sight
above his own head. A loud crack
resounded.
There wasn’t
much inside his skull to determine what it was that screamed at him just
seconds before it missed his head and splattered before him, but as he fell to
the ground beside it he knew he saw disappointment on its face.
Such was the
fate of Julius, and pretty much everything else.
Plastic
Robot Jesus
Gather
‘round, kids. Come away from your laptops, game consoles, and social stalking
so we can have a look into the future, all the way into the year “Tomorrow
A.D.” where we find our friend Mr. Mad Scientist, who labors away feverishly to
make a noble contribution to society. Suddenly, Mr. Mad Scientist is joined by
a Time Traveler, who just happened to drop out of the sky flat on his pretty
face, no longer appropriate for selfies. After a quick moment of plastic
surgery our Time Traveler is ready to find out what the heck Mr. Mad Scientist
is up to.
“I’ve done it!” Mr. Mad Scientist
exclaimed in a way too loud voice.
“Done what, totally insane Mad
Scientist, dude?”
With continued excitement Mr. Mad
Scientist answered, “Why for Jesus Day this year I’ve created the first ever
anatomically incorrect plastic robot Jesus!”
The Time Traveler was astounded at those
words. “Wow. You, uh, sure said a lot of words in that sentence I didn’t
understand at all.”
Mr. Mad Scientist thought he was
explaining clearly enough. “What’s not to understand? Plastic Robot Jesus is
the first of its kind, a prototype, really. And of course you know about Jesus
Day.”
A stranger in this time the Time
Traveler indeed had no idea what Jesus Day was at all. “Sorry, Mad Scientist. I
have no idea what Jesus Day is.”
“Ah. Well, you see, all the way back in
the year 2525 Christians grew tired of losing Christmas to the big corporations
and the spirit of greed. So with a lot of political clout and celebrity
endorsements they banded together and founded a new holiday to exclude everyone
on the planet from.”
The Time Traveler suddenly got it.
“Jesus Day!”
“That’s right,” Mr. Mad Scientist said.
“And now every August 15th Christians everywhere stand at their
doors in anticipation of the return of their savior.”
“But what about the rest of the world?”
the Time Traveler asked. “Do they celebrate Jesus day?”
“Oh, they try. They gather themselves
together in large groups and squeeze into tiny little shopping malls. Then they
climb all over one another’s corpses until a lone survivor emerges with the
single prize.”
The Time Traveler asked, “There’s only
one prize?”
Mr. Mad Scientist answered, “They call
it The Elmo.”
“I see.”
“He says, ‘Tickle me and I’ll sue.’”
“Naturally,” the Time Traveler agreed.
“Well what about this Plastic Robot Jesus?”
“My greatest achievement,” Mr. Mad
Scientist started. Then he went to a dim-lit closet and wheeled out a humanoid.
In the light of the lab the Time Traveler could clearly see what looked like an
obvious plastic robot Jesus.
“Let me show you,” Mr. Mad Scientist
said. “Now stand back. This could be dangerous.”
Mr. Mad Scientist operated a mobile
device with a few blinking lights and momentarily the plastic robot Jesus came
to life and started to walk toward the Time Traveler.
“Well that’s really something,” he said.
“We don’t have anything like that where I’m from.”
Mr. Mad Scientist ignored the comment,
too caught up in the excitement of his new invention. “And you see, all you do
is stand Plastic Robot Jesus in front of your door and enjoy the holiday fun.”
Mr. Mad Scientist went about frantically
positioning the plastic robot Jesus before a closed door. He waited with a
smile and the Timer Traveler watched as Plastic Robot Jesus made a knocking
gesture. With a loud monotone and metallic voice it repeated the words “Behold,
I stand at the door and knock” over and over.
The Time Traveler interrupted. “I have a
question.”
“Certainly.”
“Say what?”
Mr. Mad Scientist said, “You’re just
confused. The point of all this is that Plastic Robot Jesus is going to make me
mountains of money.”
The Time Traveler was perplexed by all
he had just witnessed.
Mr. Mad Scientist went on. “Yessir.
Mountains and mountains of money. Don’t you just love the holidays?”
The Time Traveler decided he had seen
more than enough and returned to his own time. As for Plastic Robot Jesus?
There are those who say he came to life that day…
…and
disappeared after the murder of his creator.
Dale Jones
is a comic you do not forget. And he’s one of those comics you MUST SEE LIVE in
a club (or anywhere!). While you’ve probably seen him on TV (most notably NBC’s
Last Comic Standing) there’s a LOT you’re missing.
A good
example is reading a single panel gag. The joke itself may be good on paper.
You might smile or even chuckle. Very rarely do you see one that actually makes
you “laugh out loud”. But you and your friends will sit around and tell the
same joke, and your neighbors will call the police because of all the noise
your laughter is making. It’s just not the same.
The thing
that makes Dale funny is Dale. His jokes are funny, yes. But like the single
panel gag on paper his act is something you very much appreciate in person, and
with as many friends as possible.
The last
time I saw Dale (before the Louisville Improv closed) he had the audience in
such a roar it was as loud as a Katy Perry concert with thousands of tweenies. Wait.
I mean an AC/DC concert. Point is I laughed so hard I couldn’t catch my breath.
Yes. He’s that funny.
Do yourself
a favor: once you’ve read this interview go to his site, check out his calendar
and see when he’s coming to your city. GO TO HIS SHOW! You’re welcome.
BAD HALO
COMIX
Tell us a
story from your childhood. Did that experience influence your path to becoming
a comic?
DALE
I don’t have
any specific stories. Maybe I’ve blocked them. I know first thru third grade
for me was a nightmare. That’s when I found out if I was funny my underwear
didn’t go over my head that day.
BAD HALO
COMIX
Can you
remember what your first experience with live standup was?
DALE
Tuesday Jan
12,1993 - 3 min at Zanies in Nashville,TN. I bombed horribly. Got one laugh
that night and that’s all it took. I was addicted. I came offstage feeling like
a million dollars. People were staring at me wondering why I was so happy. From
that day on I was at that club every time the doors opened and 2 yrs later I
went full time.
BAD HALO COMIX
So if you
hadn’t become a comic what would you be doing instead?
DALE
I’d probably
be dead. I’m not kidding. Before standup my goals included seeing how much I
could drink.
BAD HALO
COMIX
Tell us
about your experience with NBC and Last Comic Standing. How did it affect your
career?
DALE
At the time,
Last Comic was an emotional roller coaster. I always over analyze things. I had
convinced myself - This is it. Do or
die. But it’s never do or die. It’s just a step. Another step. I know that now.
Stand up is marathon not a race. That goes for any career. I know that sounds
corny but it’s true.
I didn’t
make it as far on the show as I would have liked to but I still got a lot more
out of it than I ever thought I would. Because of Last Comic I found my
manager. Well actually he found me. He sent me an email and said “Congrats!
You’re going to need a manager soon.” And I replied. “Well since you’re the
only person who’s offered….. Congrats! You got the job!” Since that day his has helped me tremendously
with everything. Personal and professional. I wouldn’t be where I am right now
without him.
BAD HALO
COMIX
Your act is
very… uhm… active. There’s a lot that you do with your body. Your face is very
expressive. A few ticks here and there. How does all this relate to your
routine?
DALE
As far back
as I can remember I loved watching Abbott & Costello, Looney Tunes, Jerry
Lewis, Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, Tom & Jerry and Laurel & Hardy
reruns. Then I moved on to Tim Conway & Don Knotts. Then came Steve Martin,
Richard Pryor and Saturday Night Live. Followed by Bobcat Goldthwait, Howie
Mandel, Bob Nelson. The list goes on and on.
I just love physical humor. I also love quick one-liners - Rodney
Dangerfield, Steven Wright. So I do my best to combine the two. Anything I’m
doing onstage relates to the routine. Facial ticks, fidgeting, whatever it is
that day. I use everything.
BAD HALO
COMIX
As a comic
is it important to stay current with your material?
DALE
For me, the
most important thing is to have material that you love performing. That will
keep you current. If you’re not having a good time the audience can smell it.
And they will resent you for wasting their time.
BAD HALO
COMIX
There seems
to be a lot of meanness and crude humor in comedy today. You’re one of those
rare comics who manages to make the crowds roar with laughter without “going
blue”, as they used to say. You may tow the line from time to time, but there’s
far worse out there. Even on TV. Is it something natural to you, or are you
sometimes tempted to push it? Is there a line you won’t cross?
DALE
That is
pretty natural to me. I can be very blue sometimes. It depends on the venue.
But it always comes from an innocent place. I hate making fun of people. That’s
the line I won’t cross. Unless you’re heckling me and messing up the show. Then
all bets are off.
BAD HALO
COMIX
Now for the
bomb: It’s inevitable that even the best of the best may have an off night.
While I’ve never seen you bomb (can’t even imagine it!) is that something a
comic can prepare for?
DALE
Here’s the
truth - EVERYONE BOMBS. If a comic says they’ve never bombed they’re a liar.
And you can’t prepare for it. It’s personal. You’re baring your soul to drunk
strangers and being rejected. All you can do is try to learn from it. And write
like crazy to stop it from happening again. But it will. I like to call it -
The Great Humbler.
BAD HALO
COMIX
From what
I’ve seen in your shows there isn’t a lot of space to be filled by hecklers.
Too much laughter. But there are always a few. How do you respond to them now
compared to your early act?
DALE
In the early
days I would scream “Shut the Fuck Up!” Clever huh? Not so much. That caused more damage. Now I
do it the right way. I let them babble until the crowd hates them. When the
whole room is on your side, handling a heckler is a cake walk. You can’t lose.
Unless they’re armed. But that’s another story.
BAD HALO
COMIX
As for being
on the inside of the business of comedy on the road these days, how does it
compare to what you imagined when you were young and dreaming of becoming a
comic?
DALE
When I
started out I didn’t have a plan. I just wanted to be a comic. I didn’t even
expect to get paid for 10 yrs. So every day is a surprise to me.
BAD HALO
COMIX
Speaking of
being young, there was a time when you couldn’t turn what you were doing into a
career. What did you have to do to make ends meet?
DALE
When I
started going to open mike nights in Nashville I did standup at night and
worked my factory job during the day. Two years later I quit the factory and
became a full time comic. Since then I’ve never had another job. Stand up is
it. I’m very blessed.
BAD HALO
COMIX
So you’re
here now (been for awhile), on your way to becoming a household name and making
a lot of people laugh. What have you discovered about the people doing the same
thing you are? Is there a sense of community between yourselves (comics) and
club operators? Or does that old school tradition of “us vs. them” still
exist?
DALE
The Us vs
Them will always exist. But I’ve surrounded myself with people who don’t think
that way. Now I just see it that everyone has a goal. And if you help people
reach their goal, they will help you reach yours.
BAD HALO
COMIX
What kind of
rivalries have you seen between other comics? Other than your wife do you have
a rival yourself?
DALE
Here’s what
I know - You can’t spend your time watching people pass you by. It will drive
you crazy and make you bitter. Keep your head in your notebook. Everyone’s journey
is different. My biggest and only rival is the voice in my head that tells me
I’m not good enough and I beat him every time I write a new joke.
BAD HALO
COMIX
Do you have
a favorite city to perform in? If so which club do you love returning to?
DALE
I have two
favorites - The Punchline in Atlanta and McCurdy’s in Sarasota,FL. The owners
and staff at both clubs are my family.
BAD HALO
COMIX
Finally, if
a future heckler is reading this interview is there something you’d like them
to yell out at your next show?
DALE
I’d like
them to yell, “We love you Dale!” But
only once.
Next time you see Dale (at one of his shows or on the street, or in a public restroom) tell him how much you love him. He loves being loved.
