There was this Jewish comedian...

Jackie Mason tells Jewish jokes. But that’s OK, because Jackie Mason is himself a Jew and there’s a strong tradition of Jews telling jokes about themselves. But at what point do such jokes become anti-semitic?
While anti-semitism was a major issue to Jewish people, and Jews often suffered discrimination and even violence, Mason doesn’t think it matters now. “I think anti-semitism is a manufactured issue, like black people like to manufacture an issue of racism. It’s way of feeling important, like you abused me and I deserve this job. If a Jew tries to get a job as a radio announcer and comes out stuttering, he’ll say he didn’t get the job b-b-b-b-because they’re anti-semitic!”
He admits to suffering from anti-semitism as a kid, when the problem was particularly pervasive in America. “I was punched in the mouth by Italian kids,” he recalls. “But that was over 60 years ago. I don’t see it today. People don’t realise how much attitudes have changed about homosexuals, who used to be regarded as sick. Today, I think homosexuals are more respected than heterosexuals! Women used to be only secretaries, now they run corporations and countries. I don’t see any great discrimination. People make a living out of discrimination. People like Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton invent discrimination. That’s why Bill Cosby said ‘Stop blaming the white people if you’re not working’.”
Raised in New York, Mason’s father, and the three generations before him, were all rabbis, as are his three brothers. At 25, he himself was ordained a rabbi, but three years later he quit to become a comedian. So who were his earliest comedic inspirations? “I don’t think I had any specific comedians who inspired me. It was more a desperate need for attention that inspired me,” he confesses, “I’ve always been funny off-stage, among friends, and that gave me the feeling I could do this for a living.”
So has he never been tempted to go back to being a rabbi? “No. Religion is a beautiful thing, but cash is king to me now! It would take nine years as a rabbi to make what I can earn with a few shows as a comedian!”
The garrulous stand-up’s performance blends pungent political satire with insightful observations on the foibles of humanity that make you laugh and think at the same time. Not surprisingly then, he believes that comedy can have an impact on politics. “Satire is a great way to make a point,” he argues, “When politicians want to make a point they often do so in the form of humour. The greatest preachers and lecturers and speakers have all been good humorists. But most people go to comedians to forget their troubles, not to dwell on them. A comedian doesn’t have the right to waste their time with political lectures. Whatever political point you want to make as a comedian, you have to be funny first of all. My kind of comedy is like holding up a mirror to people and showing them a part of themselves they might not be aware of.”
I wonder if he has to adjust his script from country to country? “I think you have to be aware of the political nuances of whatever place you’re in, but with communications today being worldwide, most people have the same knowledge of what’s going on everywhere. 90% of what you read in an American paper you’ll read in a French paper or a German paper. Issues like same-sex marriage are everywhere. But people can be different. In England they’re very stodgy and don’t talk to strangers. If you say hello to a stranger they look at you as if you should be locked up. It’s a cultural thing, about minding your own business. In Dublin it’s the opposite. People act like they’re happy to meet you.”
I remind him that American musicians, including the Dixie Chicks and Linda Ronstadt, have been pilloried for criticising the war in Iraq – so have comedians suffered in the same way? “Not that I’ve seen. Comedians have been attacked when they’ve been abusive and vicious, when they’ve called Bush a pig. You can make political points without making it ugly. I make speeches against the war all the time, but I’m never attacked.”
So would he tell a Muslim joke? “A Muslim joke still frightens everybody”, he responds. “But then nobody else is threatening to kill you! (laughs). Tell a joke and 180 million Muslims are gonna come lookin’ for your furniture, so I can’t help getting a little nervous!”
Mason hit the top of American entertainment in the ‘60s when he got a regular spot on the legendary Ed Sullivan Show, but fell from grace with the TV god over an infamous hand gesture during a live show. He remembers it well. “That was 35 years ago. I was doing the Jewish type of hand-gestures and he thought it was a vulgar gesture. I didn’t know what a vulgar gesture was at the time. He thought it was my middle finger. To me it was a different finger! But the damage was done. To this day I don’t do vulgarity of any kind. Why would I have done it 35 years ago, when I was only a rabbi twenty minutes earlier? Rabbis don’t making a living from filthy gestures,” he maintains. Sullivan later apologised and Mason doesn’t seem to hold any grudges.
His stage performance gives the impression of being totally ad-libbed, but is it? “If I give that impression I’m a liar. A decent performer makes it feel that way. You don’t want to make people feel they’re watching a sermon. It should look like fun. The main body of my performance is reasonably set, because I don’t take chances when people pay $50 for a ticket, making up stuff just to see if it’s gonna work. If it turns out that it ain’t that funny, they’d have wasted $50! And that’s not funny!”
He works very hard to keep up with current events, reading newspapers everyday and working out fresh material based on what’s going in the world. “It’s a religion to me to make sure nothing is repeated. I get up at six or seven o’clock and I’m reading all the time. When I play Dublin this time, the audience won’t hear one joke they heard when I played here two years ago.” I’ll take that as a promise!