whitman's mind...

I made a way too personal appearance on Delicious Mediocrity…then was promptly kicked off the stage at the Crescent an hour or so later for using the C word. Click here to learn way too much about me.

In Shoreline. Headlining two shows. 16716 Aurora Ave N Shoreline, WA 98133

I personally can’t wait to walk in, point at my face and say “Hello. This is headlining your casino this evening.”

Here are some of the google searches that somehow directed traffic to this site. I’m fairly sure a good deal of them left unsatisfied

• american political spectrum
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• cock blocker comedy
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• essay about the future belongs to those who believe in the beat
• facebook argument f7u12
• favorite religion
• fear of holes in body (this one I was interested in enough to look into)
• fucking pigs
• funny south dakota photos
• gif nude strippers moving images
• gigantism of the penis (this brings up an article about Sarah Palin that’s really about Lizzy Pilcher)
• glenn beck show,end of world as we know it 2011 video
• grand theft corn palace
• hunting craig colorado
• is the vault in paris texas closing?
• jeremy whitman missionary
• jeremy whitman  saturn
• joe tapine “big joe” or “joe tapine” or “joe tarp”
• logical fallacies commercials
• murder stories in concordia kansas
• nude club with full bar humble,tx

There is a strip club in texas that should really be tossing me some cash once in a while.

I couldn’t have asked for a better set of coincidences to surround my departure from California and journey to Austin. I got to see my good friends Nancy Reed and James Heneghen, who were bound from the south and north respectively to the same isolated coastal strip of Humboldt County I have for the last few months been using as something of a monastery in preparation for the most significant geographical move of my life thus far.

Nancy helped me understand Austin comedy and geography. Heneghen and myself had a rare opportunity to spend a significant amount of time talking about my three favorite subjects on earth: Stand up, Politics, and Religion.

To add to that, my buddy Sam made a special trip down to see me, repairing my oh so loved Hackintosh, and giving us time down a few beers and talk in depth about Ask An Atheists and what my roll might be with the show down the line as I get to know the Austin Atheist community. Sam -who created this website- was also kind enough to throw together EggelArborCare.com for the Eggels, who have been putting up with yours truly inhabiting their ranch for quite some time. I can thank any of these people enough.

On October 15th, with the car loaded the night before, I awoke at around 4 am, and hit the road, driving aggressively and making the 12 hour drive to LA in somewhere between 9 and 10 hours. Two weeks ago my cousin had moved to town and began studying film at the North Hollywood Art Institute. I was eager to see how she was doing. She’s a bit nervous, being in a new city and not surrounded by family, which I at this moment (more than any other in my life) can completely relate to. Somewhere along the line she turned from a mischievous child with that indescribable vaguely Boston accent that children sometimes inexplicably acquire, into a poised and confident young woman who’s doing exactly what she wants in absolutely the right way, in exactly the best place to do it. Knowing first hand how much skepticism a person receives upon declaring an interesting in making a living in the entertainment industry, I was fairly bursting with pride at my young cousin’s guts and accomplishments from the moment we met up, across several states, and right up to this very moment as I sit here in North Texas. Sadly, my schedule didn’t allow me to spend more than a few hours in LA, and forced my early morning departure after a couple of cups of java with Lizzy Pilcher, another good friend who has recently moved to Hollywood.

This took me to Arizona where as fate would have it I ran back into Sam, and his wife Becky, where we had a final chance to catch up a bit over a some Dutch Brothers coffee, and Becky was nice enough to set me up overnight accommodations in what turned out to be a mansion overlooking Las Cruses New Mexico, of which I was the sole occupant for another few hours of sleep.

If there was a low point to the journey, it came about the next day when the Boarder Patrol, which inexplicably runs an international border checkpoint inside of the United States of America, decided I was a dangerous criminal who’s car should be searched. This, combined with an overall sleep deprived state did not bode well for the last 10 hours of my journey as it suddenly occurred to me that I’m moving to Texas. Texas?! WTF was I thinking?

As I whiled away the hours on I-10, road psychosis began to take hold and the enormousness of my decision to drive an unreliable car deep into the heart of the state most hostile to my own personal philosophy suddenly became very real and very frightening. It didn’t help when the Saturn’s engine developed a knock somewhere around Fort Stockton, and my mood became even darker when a long lived transmission problem began to rear its ugly head aggressively and repeatedly in the Hill Country.

By the time I’d gotten to Austin I was a ragged mess, both physically and emotionally. Completely unfit for polite society. After a quick tour of my new digs, and meeting my new roommates, I spent some time looking over the city, and thinking disturbing thoughts about failing miserably and being forced to hitchhike back to Seattle broke and defeated. Suddenly it dawned on me that I hadn’t really slept in days, and have been confined to my car for nearly every waking moment for just as long. Sleep suddenly seemed like the only viable option.

Quality sober restful sleep, as it often does, put the road psychosis at bay. I thankfully awoke this morning feeling quite revealed to have made it to Austin in one piece. I took a look at my new neighborhood and was quite enthused at how articulate and polite everyone is. I was pleasantly surprised to call a perspective landlord, and discover that she had goggled me and was kind enough to go out of her way to let me know that she quite agrees with the views I express on this site. Despite being complete strangers, we ended up talking for quite a while.

I think I quite like Austin.

Hands down, without one shred of doubt, the Catholics are my favorite religion.

As a fairly outspoken atheist, it’s strange that I even have a favorite, but I most certainly do, and even more paradoxically it’s the religion that has arguably done the most to hamstring humanity on nearly every front. Yet here we are.

The Catholics get a bad rap for a lot of very good reasons. There’s the international effort to harbor active child rapists, the propaganda campaign they are currently waging in Africa to ensure the painful and protracted deaths of anyone ignorant enough to take the words of the church at face value, and of course….Mel Gibson. All of these are bad things that humanity would be better off without…(Especially Mel Gibson.)…and none of these are what I appreciate or find remarkable about the church.

What impresses me about the Catholic Church is the fact that despite being a group of aged male virgins dressed as wizards, they somehow have managed to convince the world to take them seriously in international political concerns. It’s as if a group of people who think that Lord Of The Rings is a historical documentary were given their own country and put in charge of the fate of billions of people. It’s flabbergastingly hilarious to see these be-dazzled moo-moo wearing sorcerers who believe that the path to eternal life resides in cashing in on the murder of an unemployed Jewish conjurer, taken seriously by real countries.

It’s almost as if pirates had a seat at the UN, although that would be a little less absurd as pirates are much less superstitious.

The Vatican is essentially Hogwarts. Step thought its doors and be instantly transported several hundred years back in time, surrounded by people dressed in a wide variety or robes and ridiculous hats frantically studying a subject which science every day comes closer to proving definitively not to exist.

Strangely, the fact that Catholic upper management believe, or at least appear to believe in this sorcery is oddly not a hindrance to their political power, but the source of it. You would think in an era where science is daily extending and enriching our lives after centuries of ongoing battle against religion, that being a grown man dressed in a costume whose sole claim to fame is an intimate relationship with a sort of celestial (and rather moody) Snuffleupagus, might hinder your credibility. It’s fascinating that the opposite seems to be the case, and even more fascinating that everyone from the faithful to the Associated Press, takes this seriously.
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I have a huge collection of photographs that I have taken over the years. Here are some of my favorites.

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Myself and Nancy Reed embarked on one of the more intensive Americana odysseys I’ve undertaken in some time.  Washington, Idaho, Oregon, Utah, Wyoming, Colorado (show), Kansas (show), Nebraska, Iowa (3 shows), South Dakota, Montana, Idaho again, home. Eight days–4,208 mi–or about two days and 22 hours of drive time. Z-level gigs involve a bit of time behind the wheel.

In Short:

One haunted house, three cats of questionable intention, four trips across the continental divide (once in a tunnel), Bob Dole’s home town (which hasn’t been re-named “Viagra Land” despite my best efforts), a show in a former river bed, meeting a Big Buck Hunter champ, learning to hate a certain kind of hillbilly culture, the Iowa Museum of Religious Arts/History, Tea Party encounters, the house from American Gothic, the oldest women bikers club in the country, grand theft, a near arrest, Sturgis, and George Carlin returns from the dead to help us keep our sanity on the 30-hour trip home. Oh, and a pathetic excuse for a Corn Palace.
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Not many people truly understand what a car actually does. You dear reader, are soon to be one of the lucky few.

With even a halfway decent automobile and a few hundred dollars in gas money any American is at their liberty to enter the drivers seat and demand their iron chariot fuck haphazardly with the rotation of the earth.

The uniformed will tell you that it doesn’t work like that, but they are wrong. A car does not transport you across the earth, what a car does is command the earth to rotate at an advanced rate of speed under your tires, bringing not you to your destination, but your destination to you.

Thinking about it like that really takes the edge of paying $3.50 a gallon.

Recently I joined forces with Nancy Reed, entered my beat to shit Saturn, and commanded the planet under our tries to spin in such a way as to bring us Craig Colorado. The penalties for such a belligerent assault on the laws of physics are of course nothing to sneeze at. One can easily demand their local grocery store or mall be rotated to under their feet as often as they like with little consequence, but when you order America to shift beneath your drag below your tires Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Utah, Wyoming, and Colorado in the space of just two days…bad things start to happen.

Our arrogance has called down upon us a blizzard, which intends to lay down an unseasonable wall of snow and ice between us and our next gig. Once we are out of that maelstrom our fate is a solid week of dodging category five tornado’s and hoping that the universe’s fury for our conceit doesn’t extend so far as to take our lives, or worse, rip our next gig off it’s foundation and put it not in Kansas anymore.

Wish us survival. Here is some of the eye candy we  demanded the earth scroll past us as it rolled our proper destination under us.

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The 101 is a great highway. Costal, scenic, hard to reach, and spanning most of the west coast. The drive is relaxing, and if you’ve budgeted plenty of time to get to your destination you are tempted to stop perhaps 6 times an hour to shoot pictures. I always budget time.

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Wednesday April 21, The Rat & Raven
The Young & Funny Show

You never know with college kids. Generally, a trip in to Seattle’s U-district to play a bar show is a pleasant experience, but on rare occasion I have discovered audiences too liberal for me to entertain. That’s pretty damned liberal. Thankfully that was not the case at the Rat and Raven.

For me comedy is the act of taking an audience right up to the edge of what they find acceptable/comfortable, and then pulling them over the edge with me. If I can’t find that edge and bring an audience the proper distance over it, the show will reside in my mind as a failure, no matter how well it might have gone. People laugh harder when they are slightly uncomfortable, and if I haven’t made an audience laugh harder than they would in their comfort zone, something didn’t quite work.

If you are a comic looking for an audience you can take to that edge and bring father over than any other, you often can’t go wrong in a college bar. College students skew liberal. They love to play with ideas, toy with extremes, and are incredibly hip to the same counter-culture information sources I am. Generally, they are a dream come true for a road comic who often has to leave large sections of his favorite material on the cutting room floor when working the backwoods area’s of the more Jesus infused states.

Of course every audience is it’s own entity, and every once in a while I get thrown for a loop. read more