CheekyChicago

Aemilia Scott. Writer, comedian, actress, singer, improviser, political activist – record screech – what?

Why do we cringe at that term? Why, even after the November of rainbow and unicorns, does “political activist” still conjure up irritable middle-aged bloggers or wack-jobs carrying hate signs on Flickr?

Political activism needs an extreme makeover. 90’s revivalism can show up all it wants in fashion and music (plaid and distortion are forever) but some of us would rather not go all ‘94 where health care reform is concerned. Aemilia Scott is one of those people.

She writes for Huffington Post, performs with the parody-congregation, Best Church of God, and has written and performed for Chicago institutions like The Second City and Q101. For Aemilia’s latest act, she has unveiled DEATH-PAC, a satirical anti-health care-reform movement with the party line “Sick People Against Health Care Reform.”

When I found out about this latest project, I accompanied Aemilia and friends on DEATH-PAC’s first test run, which involved “joining” protesters against H.R. 3200 outside a democratic Chicago Congressman’s office last weekend. The idea was to dress up as sick and injured people who don’t believe in universal health care and would rather just wither away with the status quo. Amelia fashioned a head wound, one person donned crutches and another dressed as a bum with a sign saying “help me fund my HSA.” And yes, as an under-insured girl with some health care stories of my own, I decided to get involved too, throwing on a bathrobe (nothing says crazy like terry cloth?) and carrying a sign Aemilia made that read “Paps are For Pussies” on one side and “Protect Their Health Care [arrow pointing at protesters]” on the other.

Some people saw us and thought we were on their side – some passersby got the joke and laughed; some got the joke and got mad. (One woman screamed at me that “health care is a priviledge.” I guess that ends the debate.)

DEATH-PAC’s approach remains a work in progress – both its approach and its website will evolve based on more encounters with protesters. But the idea already provides a useful example of how Chicago-style comedy, deeply rooted in improvisation and political satire, can get out of the theater and onto the streets to spark thought and – let’s say the word – activism.

Cheeky: With DEATH-PAC.com, you’re using satire to counter-protest those against health care reform. Can you tell me about the idea and how it originated?

Aemilia Scott: Well, I think the idea has a couple of strong predecessors, the godfather of which is The Colbert Report. I think that was a revolution for all satirists. When it started we all wondered, could a satirical perspective exist on the national stage, four days a week?

Also, though I was never involved, Billionaires for Bush was something I watched from afar and always respected. Finally, a few weeks ago I organized a protest of The Westboro Baptist Church – the “God Hates Fags” people – along with some members of a performance group I’m involved in called The Best Church of God. In it I used the angle of protesting on their side, along with them.

Cheeky: One thing that’s different about the on-the-street approach is that you’re not “preaching to the choir” for an audience that has come to see you. But, of course, that presents the challenge of a hostile crowd. What are some responses so far that have struck you?

AS: I think the most common, and saddest, response of all is the “why do you hate rich people?” response. It is the strangest thing in the world to see someone with holes in their shoes argue in defense of the wealthiest of us. As if somehow the government is out to get poor people, but a gigantic corporation just wants what’s best for them. My shorthand for that is the American Idol response – based on the idea that, even though I currently am living at the poverty line and would do well with some public health care, I will one day be rich and don’t want my future rich person lifestyle impinged upon by a proportional tax. This year, we will all become Kelly Clarkson. Every single one of us.

The second response would be the “anything but Socialism” response. This, as you mentioned to me, Ali, is often used by people who have been union workers their whole lives. And, of course, most of the people making this argument can’t really articulate what socialism is or how it’s manifested in the world. We saw a few UAW and IBEW brothers who were arguing so passionately against socialism. These were people whose salaries and health care were determined by collective bargaining through their union – a union, of course, being a force that shields the worker from the cold-ass winds of the free market. Unions, Medicare, Social Security – these are all socialist, in the strictest sense of the term.

Third: Death panels. Jesus H. Christ. The language isn’t in the bill. Period. I feel like I’m on LSD when I talk to these people. They point to the document that says “PAGE 425, LINE 17: Doctors mandate DNR orders!” and I’m like, that’s not in the bill. Line 17 doesn’t say that. There are literally not those words on line 17. And then “White Rabbit” starts playing, and my head turns into a giant droplet of water and I unite with Mother Earth as the summer rain.

Cheeky: Did you find it hard to “stay in character” as a satirical act, rather than debating people in earnest, as yourself? I know I had trouble with that!

AS: Oh, hell yes. I have had dreams about going Bill Maher on them. But, that is what they expect, and probably what they’ve prepared for. If you’re trying to fight a rhetorical war, marching out in lines and rows is an easy way to get picked off. Satire allows you to stay a little less visible. They can’t quite identify the target, but what they’re seeing on the surface is themselves. Satire is like a mirror – if you’re doing it right, you should be presenting the logical conclusion of your object’s opinion.

Cheeky: Is the goal to change minds of the people on the street, or to make a point for people watching videos or viewing pictures after the fact? (Or both?)

AS: I think the latter. From 1968 on, anyone going into a protest should understand that the ultimate goal is to bring visibility to a cause on a wider scale, not convince the people you’re standing across the aisle from. Those people got out of bed that morning and decided to come to protest as well, so likely they’re about as convinced of their side as you are of yours.

Cheeky: What do you think makes good political satire? Who are some of your role models?

AS: Charles Dickens. My dad would read me “A Christmas Carol” every holiday season, and the words of Scrooge about the fate of the poor still ring in my ears: “Are there no prisons? Are there no workhouses?” And my dad had to explain to me that Dickens didn’t actually mean that, he meant the opposite of that, but he put the words in Ebenezer’s mouth to make a point. Can you believe that the most famous Christmas story in America has no Jesus, no God, no Angels? It is one of the best works of political satire ever created.

Jonathan Swift. “A Modest Proposal.” Changed my life.

Stephen Colbert, Allison Silverman (Colbert’s Executive Producer and amazing comedy writer), Mike Judge (he gave us “Idiocracy”, the funniest dystopic fiction I’ve ever seen), Trey Parker and Matt Stone (South Park is some of the tightest, rightest satires of our lifetime) and Christopher Guest (remember when we all didn’t know whether Waiting for Guffman was a comedy or not? Guest, in a slow-burn way, revolutionized the way we laugh at people).

On the side of comedians who aren’t always satirists but who are smart as hell, and aren’t going to take it anymore: David Cross, Bill Maher, Sarah Silverman and Lenny Bruce.

Cheeky: What’s the role of comedy in the current political climate? Is it too tame and safe? Is it making a difference?

AS: Oh man, that’s a tough one. I just read a study that reported Stephen Colbert is watched by liberals and sonservatives, who both think he’s speaking to them. That makes the show absolute genius in terms of structure and execution, but might not be changing people’s minds the way we all hoped. Maybe it never was meant to change minds, but rather galvanize us around a certain idea, and in that way create a sort of cohesiveness.

The Daily Show is like this beautiful, transcendent beast. It’s like a Griffon or something. It manages to deliver more news content than CNN per 22 minutes, and also synthesize news stories in a way that other news sources don’t, and be funny insofar as it pulls the scales back from your eyes. Sometimes there aren’t even punch lines. The writers just show what people have said, and recontextualize it. It’s like… not even comedy anymore. It’s better than comedy. I hope in 20 years CNN actually looks like this.

It’s interesting to note that in these crazy divisive political times we live in, most of the comedies on TV and in the movies are hyper personal and apolitical. Mostly they’re about guys with arrested development. They’re all very funny, but tend to be a bit navel-gazing.

Cheeky: Did you mention you were a poli sci major? Do you see a historical precedent for the health care debate and, if so, did comedy and performance have a role then?

AS: Well, a poli sci major of sorts. I was actually a history major, but I studied medieval political theory. Both of my parents are PhDs in political science, so I was steeped in it growing up. It’s interesting you mention that, because as I was thinking of my role models, one strange one came to mind – Hannah Arendt. She shares something with Jonathan Swift. Both were trying to find a way to articulate incredible atrocities, and represent them in a way that other people could get their minds around. For Jonathan Swift, it was English colonial rule in Ireland causing massive Irish suffering and death; and for Arendt it was, of course, the Holocaust. My mom is a Hannah Arendt scholar, and she always mentioned that people were surprised by Arendt’s ironic tone in writing about the Holocaust – yet, both authors found the only way they could get at the enormity of the issue, the massive scale of human suffering, was to draw a dotted line around it, and simply write that dotted line, leaving the reader to infer the massive negative space in the center.

On the performance side, the only performance I studied in college was liturgical. That is, on Good Friday, the priest would play Jesus, and the congregants would play the people casting him out. In that logic, the priest for that day literally becomes Jesus, and the congregants literally become the people condemning him. It’s weird and fascinating – kind of like medieval performance art.

Generally though, most people with a political cause take the world way too seriously, and most comedians don’t take the world seriously enough.

Cheeky: I hardly feel the need to ask our favorite last question since I’ve watched you take to the streets with a bullhorn, but here goes: What’s the cheekiest thing you did this week?

AS: Woo! I wasn’t expecting this. Okay, I went to the MCA this week to see the Olafur Eliasson exhibit, and one of the pieces is this perfectly dark room, illuminated by a single spotlight, and from the ceiling he’s rigged up this mister that shoots a wall of mist down into the light. It’s the most beautiful piece. There are no demarcations so you can just run around in the mist if you want. I ran through it, myself. When someone else came in and stepped through it, I told them to be careful, or else they’d use up all the art. At first they looked at me like I was a museum guard, and then like I was crazy.

If you can’t catch Aemilia on the streets, you can see her live on the altar during Best Church of God “services” at the Lakeshore Theater, every Sunday at 1pm beginning September 20^th.