Yesterday’s news of OJ Simpson’s death sparked an enormous outpouring of affection for Norm Macdonald, whose OJ jokes was shared like crazy. To the common fan, Norm was defined by his hostile relationship with OJ within the Nineties. And it isn’t unfair. At least a couple of jokes like that they were candidates for the very best joke ever told. It had the directness, the whole lack of wordplay and fantasy, that defined many comedies on the time. There was never any fat in these jokes, and Norm wasn’t afraid to simply inform you to sit down with them, even when the laughter died down – even when was no laughter. No one else was willing on the time for Norm to simply sit down and say, “What? I’m right. Come to me.” (Shades of Hannibal Buress we’re talking about Cosby.)
Half the time Norm was barely even kidding– he simply reminded us over and over again that OJ was a cruel double murderer and pointed out how much crazy, contemptible nonsense happened during a trial that could charitably be described as a national disgrace. Everyone was talking about OJ back then, but no one else on TV was doing it This, because of the spectacle and viewership potential of all other types of media. Think of Billy Wilder’s carnival that begins around a man trapped in a cave Ace in the hole. Just ruthless, transparent greed. If all elements of the justice system and the media had not failed us simultaneously, OJ would no longer be in the national consciousness.
It’s called the trial of the century, but it also appears to have been the most successful trial of the century in Los Angeles. He basically created car chase coverage and all during the trial he became something of a celebrity, even a traveling actor staying at OJ’s guesthouse. To be clear, no one would ever know so many names from the trial again, so Norm’s constant jokes (all of which amounted to: “He killed two people – what about you act?”) all the time appeared to me to be a criticism of the media. Not a far-fetched assumption for a man whose brother is one in all the reserved ones most respected journalists in Canada.
This is an overused term coming up, but here’s the very best one: your entire show was punk rock. Ten years later, Norma would still be famous, if just for some time highlights reels of his OJ Simpson material, that are consistently being edited and repackaged in almost every corner of the Internet. It’s demanding to effectively provide you with so many jokes with the punchline being “He brutally murdered his wife and his waiter” and broadcast all of them on network television. When people I knew in real life told OJ jokes, all of them had some variation of “The juice is loose!” – and yes, congratulations on watching TV. We’re talking about murder.
Perhaps like Punk, Norm never made much fun of him after the trial, apart from pretending in his novel that he had come to imagine Simpson was innocent (“I used to be the most important brawler to the decision”) and elsewhere, and responded to an audience request in a stand-up special: “As outraged as I used to be that he was acquitted, I’m equally outraged that he went to prison for stealing his own fucking shirt. I do not think it’s fair. I do not think should you steal your personal shirts it’s best to get 35 consecutive life sentences.
Credit : www.gq.com
