We are happy and somewhat relieved to finally be able to bring you the long-awaited (by someone, I assume) second installment of Laughing at Others, a podcast in which myself and my friend Dennis Perrin (who, among many other things, authored one of my favorite books, Mr. Mike: The Life and Work of Michael O’Donoghue, The Man Who Made Comedy Dangerous) rabbit on at length about comedy. I’ve only done cursory research here, but I feel pretty confident that this the first-ever example of this type of thing, and not a moment too soon - finally, someone’s given aging white dudes a platform to talk about niche pop-culture minutiae. (And to make drolly pseudo-ironic comments about said platform as if self-awareness in any way mitigates the embarrassment of adding yet another truckload of ephemera to the cultural landfill rather than somehow making it even worse? Breaking ground left and right, we are.)
Sooo anyway…
This is an episode Dennis & I are both sad and honored to share with you, as we mourn the loss and exalt the life of one of our few wholly original comic talents, the great Brian McConnachie. The steady culling of the icons who changed the face of American comedy in and around the 1970s continues, inevitably, apace (as I write this, word has come down that Richard Lewis has passed away at age 76, and it looks as if the brilliant and amazing Joe Flaherty isn’t long for this world, either), with the crowd that comprised the legendary golden age of the National Lampoon taking an especially bad hit these past few years. Should be inured to it by now - the median age of this cohort is somewhere around eighty, after all - but no, I feel the hurt acutely with each fallen yuksmith. These are heroes, you understand. Shock troops in the war on inanity and insanity. And when they fall, whenever they fall, they deserve a proper (there should be a good comedy-related pun on the word “military,” right? Don't want it to seem too forced or sweaty, though. Wait, I've got it. This will work perfectly) sillitary funeral with full honors.
Aaaaand I just cut a couple hundred words comprising a couple dozen tangents, having realized hey, there's audio here - can the pretentious liner notes, Mr. Loog Oldham, and let the fucking band play. Indeed. Thanks for setting me as straight as you're not, italics. I’ll fill another entry with various bits of McConnachiana soon for those inspired to explore further. Until then, let this serve as our 21-gun(-and-sandwich) salute. Thank you for your service, Brian. At ease.
Laughing at Others, Episode #2 - Last Exit to Mogdar: Brian McConnachie, 1942-2024