First, my interview with Static Radio goes live today.

And although I am supposed to wait until the official announcement is made, I'm going to spill the beans now because I will be in Aspen at this time tomorrow: my website, ZUG, this very site you are reading, has been nominated "Best of Web" by the 2001 HBO Aspen Comedy Festival.

It's nice. Let's be honest: awards are silly and meaningless. If I hadn't been nominated, I'd be telling you just how silly and meaningless they are. But the truth is, it's nice to be recognized for something you've been doing since 1994 without pay, without encouragement, coding endless pages of HTML, toiling away in your cold, dark computer room, eating Spaghetti-Os out of the can ... MAKE THE BAD THINGS STOP HAPPENING, MOMMY! MAKE THE MONSTERS GO AWAY!

Sorry, I was talking about how this is nice. It is. As the woman who wrote my resume said to me, "You can talk all you want about yourself, but winning an award shows that someone else shares your opinions about your work. An award is a third-party verification."

This award is particularly meaningful to me because it's been a dream of mine to go to the Aspen Comedy Festival -- The brightest minds of comedy! Cutting-edge humor! The possibility of someone famous getting involved in a ski accident! -- and now I get to go. That rules. Al and I are leaving town tomorrow, and will be in Aspen through Sunday, stirring up trouble. I don't think I'm going to have Internet access (no sugar daddy to provide me with a laptop, but all that will change when I meet with the Creative Executives of HBO and Comedy Central, and I pitch them my wildly funny television pilot involving a talking mule and his young, hip cast of African-American synchronized swimmers, and they award me a two-year contract on the spot), so my apologies in advance if there are no further Journals until next Monday.

Please vote for ZUG here.

I just realized that today marks the one-month anniversary of "John's Journal." I promised I would try writing this daily column for thirty days, then see how it worked out. But aha! I tricked you! February only has 28 days! Ha ha! (I have no idea where I'm going with this.)

Anyway, I've enjoyed writing this column. I'll keep it going for a while longer.

I also want to point out that in my 28 days of writing this column, it has been 100% swear-free. (I feel like I'm in AA, talking about one month of sobriety or something.) Since beginning this column, I have reinvented myself as a clean comic. See? I had a show, it was cancelled, I adapted. I'm family-friendly now. I could voice a Disney cartoon. I don't need shock humor. I'm clean, baby, clean.

Not like the rest of those f*cking potty-mouths I'll meet in Aspen.

Finished two MBA applications today, which are sitting here in front of me, each representing about forty hours of work. I'm beginning to think that applying to graduate school is a challenge only in that one must decide how firmly up their butts to place one's lips. Listen to me: I sound like a hardened grad student already, and I haven't even gotten my applications in the mail yet.

Here's another essay question, and my answer to it.

Identify someone you regard as a hero, a leader, or a role model whom you admire. Describe how this person has influenced your development.

Matt Groening, creator of The Simpsons, is one of my greatest comedy influences. He's a funny guy; he's also a great businessman.

Groening started out as an underground cartoonist drawing the comic strip Life In Hell. The strip defied convention, with a subversive slant and a unique style which was heavy on the words and light on the funny drawings. But make no mistake: Life In Hell was funny. At times, it was overly cynical (just look at the name), but Groening was a master of funny words and ideas, of the "detail joke."

Life In Hell spawned a host of compilation books: Life Is Hell, School Is Hell, Work Is Hell, and half a dozen others. Groening kept his high standards of quality, infusing the compilation books with pages of all-new material. And Groening turned Life In Hell into a successful comedy franchise, complete with calendars, postcard books, greeting cards, posters, T-shirts, and coffee mugs.

Eventually Groening got the green light to do an animated short for the short-lived and brilliant Fox sitcom The Tracey Ullmann Show. These crudely-drawn cartoons had the same subversive flavor of Life In Hell, but Groening had subtly refined the message. Slash-and-burn comedy gave way to brilliant satire. These cartoons became the spinoff series The Simpsons, now the most-watched show worldwide, which I consider proof that there is hope for the human race after all.

The Simpsons is a wildly profitable franchise. At times, I've groaned at its over-merchandising, but Matt Groening still puts out a quality product -- and to me, that's the ultimate test for the proper mix of art and commerce. Is it still good? Is it still funny? I watched a fresh episode of The Simpsons the other night, and it made me laugh about seven times. That's pretty good. Seven times.

Hey, don't forget, kids: tomorrow my interview with Static Radio goes live. Don't miss it!

Monday, February 26, 2001

Today I bought a case of whoopie cushions from Jack's Joke Shop. I cannot tell you why I bought a case of whoopie cushions, because I am bound to secrecy until Wednesday. I had to negotiate with the joke shop guy (not Jack), and everything. It's really funny to haggle a case of whoopie cushions. Anyone who questions why I'm applying to business school, it's to get more real-world experience in skills like haggling a case of whoopie cushions. ("Haggling the whoopies," we call it in the industry. We say it real fast: "Not now, I'm hagglindawhoopies.")

I did an interview on Sunday. This was a radio interview, not a job interview, though in many ways they were similar. I had to use the same skills, like "self-confidence" and "not drooling on myself." In fact, even though it was just a phone interview, I wore a suit.

The interview was for Static Radio, this online radio show created by two Midwestern guys about my age. They asked me for the interview in a professional manner, they were politely persistent, and when I listened to their show, I thought it was funny. So I did it.

I think they're good. I think they need a little production and editing, but for the love of God, they're doing this themselves, in their spare time. The raw talent is there: Bob, the host, has a phenomenally quick mind. Talking with him on the phone, he's a crazy riffer, I mean a mad riffer, comedy hyperspace. As with Robin Williams, it's hard to keep up, but fun to try. The guy on the phone is named Miles, who reminds me of the great Andy Richter on Conan: far from being a sidekick, Miles has his own separate comedy style, which feeds on and plays off of Bob's. They're a good team.

So why can't these guys get hired somewhere? What is wrong with this world? They swear a lot, and make poo jokes. Maybe that's why Comedy World hasn't picked them up yet. Maybe their website has not been promoted enough for Comedy Central to notice. Maybe Hollywood hates the Midwest. I don't know. It's not fair.

I wanted them to call the interview "John Hargrave Breaks His Silence." That sounds nice and Babawawa. I could be a guest on "The View" with that title. "Today on Oprah: John Hargrave Breaks His Silence. His courage to be himself, his vision, and what he really thinks about Nicole Kidman." I don't know what they're going to call the interview. Probably "The Loser, John Hargrave." Or, "John Hargrave, The Guy We Found Out Is Not As Funny As He Seems On The Web." Or: "Some Obscure Guy No One's Ever Heard Of, Who Thinks He's All That And A Bag Of Cats."

The interview goes live Wednesday.

My old comedy-writing friend and a very funny guy, MICHAEL HOBAN needs bass player for his Boston-area band. 70's and 80's pop/punk, funny and weird. Must relish obscure acts such as Atlantics, Alice Cooper, Lou Reed, pop/punk bands from early 80's. Good chops, no rock stars. E-mail michaelhoban@mediaone.net.