Festivus, baldist, sponge-worthy, regifting. It was a quarter of a century ago that these words and countless others entered the American lexicon thanks to "Seinfeld," and popular culture has been better off because of it.
Boston Mayor Marty Walsh kicked off the first-ever "Ask the Mayor" hour on Boston Public Radio with Jim and Margery. Emails, calls and tweets were put to the new Mayor, who declared at the outset he'd been in office a mere 26 days. Walsh will appear once a month on Boston Public Radio to address questions from listeners.
There are few cult followings as strong as devotes of the often zany - and deceptively brainy British comedy troupe Monty Python's Flying Circus. Among its many rabid fans is Ned Hinkle, the creative director of the Brattle Theater in Cambridge's Harvard Square.
It’s election season. And as you might expect there is a lot of chatter about it here in the WGBH newsroom. Inevitably, following a crucial moment on the stump or in one of the debates someone says something along the lines of, “Oh man I can’t wait to see what SNL is going to do with this” or "Did you see how Colbert handled that last night?"
Comedy has truly, fully become an integral part of the American political landscape. And if there is one show that is the heart and soul of that nexus of politics and comedy it's The Daily Show— a show that Lizz Winstead helped create.
Dean Obeidallah is a lawyer. He writes a weekly opinion column for CNN.com. He’s appeared on MSNBC, PBS and NBC's Rock Center. He’s co-directed his first documentary, which is set to premiere later this month at the Austin Film Festival. All in all, he sounds like a pretty serious guy.
Except one thing: He’s a comedian. One that the Washington Post calls “an angsty Arab Chris Rock.”
For 30 years now, Improv Boston has been on a mission. And it’s not to make people laugh — though they do that. And it’s not to be a launching pad for local comedians who go on star in films or write for the Daily Show — though it’s been that, too. No, their mission is to honor the craft. To be a place that, for audiences and performers alike, remains dedicated to the art of comedy.
There was everything to love about Phyllis Diller — the jokes, the clothes, the stage presence. Then there was the intellect and the fortitude. How stunningly remarkable that at age 37 and with five children at home, she could begin carving out one of the most distinguished careers in American comedy. And it was the 1950s!