John Oliver Makes No Apologies
John Oliver is a funny Englishman. To his credit, he’s very upfront about it. A longtime stand-up and current correspondent for The Daily Show, Oliver has perfected a wry, incisive voice, one deeply informed by history, which develops subversive undertones when placed in contrast to his surroundings. Like, say, when he’s doing an impression of a foul-mouthed New Jersey squirrel in the back corner of a tribal casino.
"Snockle-may," as Oliver pronounced it in his charming accent, welcomed him to the stage with rousing cheers. It was, he claimed, his first casino gig and he had them all wrong. What he pictured as 15 visored gamblers turned out to be a packed room of full-on fans. His palpable surprise at that fact soon gave way to discussing reasons why America is awesome (we invented Oreo pie and hold the world record for most live rattlesnakes held in the mouth—10, in case you’re curious), an unexpectedly intense back and forth on the fine points of grammar, and a hilariously uncomfortable digression about how much of your father’s anatomy you have personally seen.
Oliver was onstage for 90 minutes, and with mostly new material. We laughed for about 85, and maybe possibly learned something. Then we streamed out into the "snogglemay" casino, where we listened to the death rattle of craps games as we awkwardly smoked—seriously, smoking indoors nowadays feels like you’re continually fouling a giant pair of pants—before leaving. There seems to be little reason to visit the venue, if not for the talent. So come back, John Oliver, but next time come to Seattle proper.
