He rants about how “comedy is dying” because apparently you can’t say offensive horseshit under the guise of making bigots laugh (Who knew?!) without people taking note. Things don’t get better from there in Snelson #2-4, written by Paul Constant, drawn by Fred Harper, colored by Lee Loughridge and lettered by Rob Steen for AHOY Comics.
Will Nevin: A few things before we get all caught up on Snelson. First/second, since the last time we talked, Norm MacDonald died, and Netflix and Dave Chappelle have apparently decided to lash themselves to transphobia as a business strategy. As to Norm, he was a unique performer, both in terms of that deadpan, fuck-the-audience delivery and in his ambition — who else would put out an audio album of sketch comedy?
But Dave? This is some straight-up Snelson-level shitty and bigoted behavior. And I keep trying to come up with an explanation for it. He doesn’t need the money, so this is not a Snelson-esque grift. Is it a play for relevance? This is apparently his sixth Netflix special, and I can’t remember any of the previous five making an impact. The simplest answer, though, seems that he’s a bigot. For someone with his talent, insight and — most importantly — platform, that’s really disappointing.
And while he’s not chasing the lucrative idiot dollar like Snelson, Dave joking about “being canceled” speaks to the same point this book does: The rich and the powerful will always have a place to speak.
Cassie Tongue: It’s also been disturbing to see exactly how much power a powerful comedian can wield: Two Netflix employees were fired after protesting the special — one for organising a protest, and another for posting a viral tweet (who was since reinstated). The employees, both of whom are trans, have not just lost their jobs but have also suffered death threats and doxxing (They have since filed labor charges against the company). Dave Chappelle’s comments do not exist in a vacuum; the impact of the transphobia his special endorses can be immediately felt and easily spotted. No one’s taking power away from him by “canceling” him with tweets and protests, but people who, relatively, have little power are harmed.
Snelson is just a comic, and the titular Snelson is a fictional creation, but nothing about this issue is a thought exercise. The damage is being done over and over again. Hey, did we mention that Louis CK is on an unapologetic “post-cancellation” tour?
Will: Jesus fuck. So much for “listening,” huh? What a fucking creep. And that’s a good point about how this Chappelle shit has real consequences. To wash the taste of Dave and Nextflix out of our conversation, what’s your recommendation for a non-Chappelle, non-Netflix stand-up special people can check out? Other companies are still putting out specials, right?
Cassie: If you don’t love Jo Firestone yet, after Good Timing with Jo Firestone (Peacock) you will. She teaches a comedy workshop for a group of senior citizens, and then they put on a show. It’s full of big laughs and surprising wit. Do you have a palate cleanser to add?
Will: Joe Pera Talks with You seems like a neat thing that won’t eventually make me sad in the worst ways. But as a final prelude, I wanted to point out this gem from the AHOY newsletter and writer Paul Constant:
Interviewers always want to know if Melville Snelson is based on a real person and while it would be a far sexier answer to say yes and point the finger directly at someone, the truth is that Fred and I frankensteined him together from a lot of different parts. We stole a 60 percent less funny David Cross from the 1990s, coated him in the stench of a deflated modern-day Andrew Dice Clay, sprinkled on a dash of Marc Maron’s prickliness, and filled him with the wind of a thousand mediocre white male comedians whining about cancel culture on awful podcasts. Then Fred topped him with a truly ridiculous haircut, and voila—funnybook magic!
I knew it was David Cross in my soul. I feel 60% vindicated.
Cassie: I feel haunted by a thousand white male comedians, but honestly, there’s nothing new there.
Will: But white men are society’s new victims. Didn’t you know that?
Snelson the Grifter
Will: As we open on issue #2, it is *zero* surprise that our man, having gone into his tirade at the end of the last book, is now a podcaster with some modicum of success. The modern alt-right space is 90% scammers, 8% true believers and 2% “people who shouldn’t be trusted with pointy things.” Of course Snelson would shack up with those people. Of course he would.
Cassie: A critical detail for me is that the podcast is No. 1 on the “alt-comedy” charts (hope Joe Rogan is OK, jk no I don’t) and No. 6 on the anti-vaxx charts. It speaks to the coalescence of harmful ideas that in itself challenges the idea that bigoted speech in comedy isn’t dangerous. “The PC police are ruining comedy” thoughts live right next door to “Science is a scam” and a whole bunch of other horrific things; it’s a gateway to far-right radicalisation.
Will: One of my favorite podcasts is Knowledge Fight — a show that points out all of Alex Jones’ bullshit because someone has to do that and it’s not gonna be me — and those guys constantly call out Rogan for laundering the alt-right horseshit ideas of Jones and other cretins. So fuck Rogan. I hope he gets horse hemorrhoids or something equally awful.
One artistic moment that I wanted to point out — one that also speaks to Snelson’s new fanbase — is a flashback to his post-rant tour. That half page of a crowd in MAGA hats and Gadsden flag shirts that slowly smudges away into klan hoods? Amazing, stupendously clever visual storytelling. I hope I would have been smart enough to see that for myself even if Constant hadn’t lauded that panel on social media.
Cassie: The second issue is, on the whole, much more incisive than the first: Harper’s art is sharper and more grounded, which means the cartoonish ghoulishness lands even more strongly than it did in issue #1; Loughridge’s colours make quick use of shadow and shape to indicate mood and meaning — the second-to-last panel, which zooms out to take in the whole room after a revelation, pales at the edges; here, something has shifted and broken apart. And Constant’s script is punchy and vibrant, like light catching the edge of a blade and glinting a warning.
Will: I think my favorite thing in #2 aside from that panel is the simple fact that everyone gets called out on their bullshit. The dimwitted, alt-right jock sniffing “journalist” Lynzi is pointed out as a “useful idiot.” Snelson himself is blasted by a fellow comedian for his entire premise that “comedy is dying.” Every point that should be made about the content or motivations of the characters is done right there on the page, and while that leaves less gristle for us to grind, it’s good to see. Satire, after all, requires a clarity of purpose and a target, lest it be mistaken for a quote that I thought was attributable.
Cassie: Even in such a popular debate about politics in comedy, it’s critical that the world of Snelson introduces, explains and spotlights the issue. It needs to poke holes in dangerous arguments, because we know what happens when satirical characters are taken seriously: They become mascots for hate crimes. Yes, it all is that serious, even in a funny medium like this one. It’s possibly why I enjoyed issue #2 much more than the first — it pulls out and gives us a wider view of character, motivation and ideology. This issue is full of context as much as it is plot, and that’s a gift.
Snelson the Liar
Will: As soon as we think we have a handle on what this series is, it changes on us; not only does Snelson pivot from his alt-comedy horseshit in issue #3, but he moves on to a routine focused on his cancer … which turns out to be a hoax. You know, I’m starting to think this Snelson is not a nice guy. But before that, have you heard any of Tig Notaro’s material on her cancer? I admittedly have not, but I know it’s stuff people are incredibly high on.
Cassie: Oh, I was very much present for the release of Tig Notaro’s Live, the set recorded just four days after she was diagnosed with stage two breast cancer. I bought a copy of it from Louis CK’s website, where it was originally released (of all places), and the impact was sudden and sharp. It really, really worked, because it was really, really real.
But Snelson — who we think is being painted with pathos by way of his cancer diagnosis — is just lying (The pathos comes later, in another little twist). Nothing about his “cancer fame” is real, but he cashed in with a book deal. Because of course he did.
Will: Weird as shit that Notaro’s big break will always be attached to that asshole, isn’t it? Snelson committing to the cancer bit seems in many ways the same as committing to the alt-right — once you start down that path, you leave behind whatever ethics you may have and there’s no turning around. (Although with the alt-right, the media sure does love a nice redemption story.) I guess we don’t know how long Snelson sticks to the lie, but it can’t be long since it doesn’t seem that difficult a deception to unravel.
Cassie: At one point, he mentions it being a year since his diagnosis, but this comic is fluid with time and space; its visual language plays with reality with disappearing lines and floating, unanchored shapes that sit defiantly against closely constructed realistic scenes. It’s hard to know what’s true — all that we can really rely on is that Snelson probably isn’t.
Will: For me, the artistic highlight hits on Page 3, where Harper once again does an amazing bit of visual storytelling. Snelson flashing back to a chemo session that never happened with a nurse without a face? That’s some good shit.
Cassie: And right after that, we see that his mismatched gig-mates — the left-leaning lot he was paired with on tour — have stuck to their values and shown up for Snelson in his time of need. That he’s using people for the love and care he clearly lacks in their life, manipulating their kindness, is just another blow.
Will: And to wrap up this point, what about the ending to #3? Snelson talks to an actual cancer patient who thanks him for his set? What a kick in the cancer-free ass.
Snelson the Would-Be Corpse
Will: We shift again with Snelson’s change in fortunes in issue #4; he’s plummeted from his lofty-ish spot in the comedy world in the wake of being exposed as a shitty liar, and now he’s working clubs literally for people to heckle him for their amusement. I can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. I also can’t think of a similar real world situation in which a public person has tried to once again bathe in the spotlight after such a shameful fraud. Maybe Lance Armstrong is the closest analog we have? But he actually had cancer and hasn’t been much of a public figure since his doping was discovered. I don’t think I have any other examples that are even close.
Cassie: People usually want to slink away and lick their wounds when their flaws or embarrassing misdeeds are discovered, but Snelson can’t back down now. All he knows is comedy, and I’m sure that need for attention — as a stand-in for validation or affection — is stronger than ever now that even some of his fascist fans have abandoned him.
Will: Once again, I’m reminded of the absolute shamelessness of Louis CK. The great visual in this issue for me was the “CHOKING VICTIM” PSA poster in the background while Snelson is bombing on stage. Incredible gag right there.
Cassie: Good background gags don’t get enough credit. That one was perfect.
Will: Before we get into how that was also some nice foreshadowing, what did you think of what this issue had to say about online bigot brigades?
Cassie: I really appreciated that the comic connected a figurehead like Snelson’s “free speech” mouthing-off to the actions of those who are influenced by and admirers of his work. It’s a neatly constructed demonstration of the consequences that follow when you platform harmful views. He only needs to hint at being “anti-PC” for his fans to send death threats to feminists and try swatting women of colour.
I also appreciated that, rather than take a moralising or didactic approach, this portion too was complicated and made messier by story, by actions motivated with character in mind: Avigail, Snelson’s progressive acquaintance — who consistently calls the man out on his unacceptable behaviour and doesn’t let his hypocrisy rest — lashes out at Snelson as he shows him exactly what her fans are up to. It doesn’t make her equally at fault in their argument, but it makes her human, and it makes the situation less pristine. The comic is richer for it.
Will: So, yeah, about that foreshadowing: Snelson chases oxy with a bunch of vodka and nearly dies, during which he visits the afterlife where his last agent tries to explain what a shitty guy he’s been. This series has so much going on that I don’t think I can even guess where we’re going next.
Cassie: Did we mention that his near-death hallucination happens while he and that agent walk over and inside Snelson’s body? The close-up hair follicles and vomit-laced interludes, all that gritty low-key body horror texture, makes it clear that death is just as ugly as Snelson’s mean little life. Will this scare him into changing?
Will: He’s got one last shot to not be an asshole.
And Here’s the Punchline
- Typically great AHOY goodies in #2 include a fun poem riffing on Night of the Living Dead, an essay on how priceless antiques aren’t so great and a piece satirizing influencers and us poor schmoes trying to get by on Patreon. (Programming note: Our review copies for #3 and #4 did not include the back matter, and AHOY’s digital distribution via comiXology appears to be interrupted at the moment. So if you get the print copies, you’ll have to enjoy the backmatter without our incredible insights.)
- Stargazing in issue #3 will get you Dave Attell, Leslie Jones, Sam Kinison and probably a few more comedians we’re not picking up on.
- A good joke in the same issue: Snelson’s publisher is “an imprint of Simon and Schuster, a wholly owned subsidiary of Penguin Random House, a Walt Disney company powered by Petrochina, brought to you by Amazon.” Consolidation sucks, doesn’t it? (Just wait until Amazon buys Image. And Diamond.)
- Wait. Let’s not give them ideas.
Will Nevin loves bourbon and AP style and gets paid to teach one of those things. He is on Twitter far too often.
