Jon Stewart: The Playboy Interview (50 Years of the Playboy Interview) Read Online Free PDF Page A

the otter were tight. So you think everything is OK; the kid’s life is going to be good. Instead, he’s walking along with his otter, moseying down this country road, when a farmer comes up and, in a split second, decapitates the otter with a shovel. Then the movie ends. It is the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen. And the kid just looks at him like, What the fuck? It’s sick. It’s sadistic. I loved otters. [ pauses ] Imagine a Disney movie today that got away with an ending like that. Mighty Joe Young shot through the head. At least they didn’t roll the end credits on Bambi’s dead mother: Bambi’s an orphan, the fire is burning, see ya.
    Playboy: Let’s break your life and career into The Daily Show segments. What are the headlines?
    Stewart: “Stewart’s Acne Clears up Just as Back Hair Appears: Will He Ever Win?” “Stewart Scores Seat at New Jersey Bar, Given Tenure: Will He Accept It?” “Stewart Hits the Bitter End, Robin Williams Not Shaking in Boots.”
    Playboy: Your first gig was there.
    Stewart: I chose the Bitter End because of its vaunted history of comedic performances; also it was within walking distance. I thought of Woody Allen in front of the brick wall, spinning yarns, and Cosby and Richard Pryor. Then I remembered that that was 20 years earlier. It had become Doors cover bands. I went onstage and after only two minutes received my first “You’re an asshole!”
    Playboy: Your reply?
    Stewart: Well, I’m known for my rakish comebacks. I believe I said, “Nuh-uh” and let him take it from there. It was raining as I was leaving, and I remember thinking, What a lovely literate metaphor for my career right now.
    Playboy: What kept you going?
    Stewart: The combination of rejection and laughter. They didn’t laugh ten times, but they laughed once and I gambled that I could get them to do it again. I also realized that stand-up was about getting your face beat in, and I might as well get used to it. Comedy became like a new girlfriend. I’d wake up at four in the morning, and instead of a hard-on, I had an idea, and I wrote it down. Ninety-eight percent of them were garbage, but I was in love.
    But there was no epiphany after a 28-hour cocaine binge, as I sat there, staring at my sweaty self in the mirror, thinking, No one gets out of here alive! It happened over two years. I was living a comfortable life: I made fine money working for the state of New Jersey. I had a car. I had a house. I played on the liquor store’s softball team. That could have lasted 40 years.
    Playboy: Sounds like you were Jon Bon Jovi in that Ed Burns movie No Looking Back .
    Stewart: You know what? I think I might be telling you that plot. I’m sorry. No: I didn’t grow up around there at all. Wait! Hold on a second. No: I was an Army kid. No, that’s Three Kings .
    Playboy: What did you do for the state of New Jersey?
    Stewart: I was a contingency planner for emergencies. I happened to be a bit of a whiz at the then-new Lotus 1-2-3, so I had to make charts of centers for psychiatric treatment and how many extra beds they might have, just in case we were attacked by Pennsylvania and took some casualties. At what point could we set up a triage center and where would we find an extra minivan? I was responsible for our level of readiness in 1985. Let me tell you: We had a lot of canned goods. We were ready. It took me six months.
    They were about to re-up me for another 40 years in Jersey, and before I signed the papers, I thought, You know what? I’m 23. If I leave, no one’s going to miss me. I don’t have kids, I don’t have a girlfriend. I don’t have anything that I’ve always romanticized having, so now’s the time. I didn’t want to be 30 years old and doing the same thing. I thought, I can always be one of the bitter guys in my town, so why not go to New York and fail and come back? It’s not like they won’t save a seat for me. I checked out in a week and a half. I’d never told my friends or