Patton Oswalt: 'So nice to be here amongst the least worst people in Hollywood', Opening monologue, WGA West Awards - 2018

11 February, Beverly Hilton Hotel, Beverly Hills, Los Angeles, USA

Good evening fellow Disney employees.

So nice to be here amongst the least worst people in Hollywood.

And also James Woods. Oh is he not here this year? he's not? Oh I wore nice shoes!

Oh,alright, I'm Patton Oswalt, and after an exhuastive six month investigation by the Writers Guild West and Writers Guild East, and all findings independently verified by a secret commission led by Ronan Farrow, and after passing a lie detector and DNA test, I've been chosen to be the host of tonight's WGA Awards.

We have three backups waiting in the wings. Just in case I ... misread the greenroom.

Right that was the long version of the joke, here's the shorter version we came up ... let's see if this one works:

I'm your host Patton Oswalt, or as Guillermo del Toro calls me, the shape of pudding, ha! Yes, pretty good? I owe my brother ten dollars.

What a breakthrough year it has been for wriiting! And I'm just talking about the New York Times and the Hollywood Reporter, folks.

This is my third year in a row hosting the WGA awards.

Just 97 more and I get syndication, folks.

By the way, look, I'm very happy to be back here hosting the WGA Awards. I would do this every year if you asked me, and I hope I'm not about to woke myself out of a job for a while, but given the current atmosphere, maybe get a female host next year. There are hilarious comedians and writers out there, get Morgan Murphy, get Apala Nantrilla, get the girls from Broad City! They'd be amazing.

I can always come back. I'm not going anywhere. I've plateaued, you can always get me.

Those guys are rocketing. Grab em while you can.

And I would also like to speak on behalf of all the awards show hosts when I say that hosting an awards show this year, is like hosting the worst murder mystery dinner ever. One of you is a murderer and that's not even the bad news.

It's really hard to believe that the actors and producers who yell at you every day turned out to be bad people! Can you believe that/

And I can't believve 'Handsmaid Tale' is nominated. That show is so unrealistic. I mean our government is not that organised.

Curb your enthusiasm is up for an award tonight.

Curb Your Enthusiasm premiered in 2000.= I can’t believe it’s been on for three seasons already.

It was a very rough year for Hollywood, but on the bright side, we managed to normalise Tonya Harding, and jerking off with peaches. So ...

So I’d just like to say, all my SAG friends have told me that Arnie would have got the nomination if he’d eaten that peach ... COM-MIT.

I’m going to wrap this up. We have a very very fun show.

Only to say, and I don’t want to get all maudlin, but, the world right now, needs writers.

More than ever, and I’m going to show you why. We have a concrete reason why.

I don’t know if you guys remember but during the 2008 Writers Guild strike, remember the networks were suddenly desperate for content,

‘yeah, I heard a little yeah ... yeah, I got my calves in shape’

But youi remember how desperate the networks were for content, so suddenly all the Hollywood producers, who had to make all their alimony payments, organised a huge summit meeting, just like at the beginning of The Warriors, and they realised that the best way to make shows without writers, was that you just point cameras at assholes. So the networks green lit a whole bunch of asshole filled reality shows, including a gaping shit shoot known as The Apprentice, and like a small malignant growth, inside the rectum of America’s sunbelt, began the unchecked ascent of Donald Trump.

So listen, to any producers watching. The next time you think about taking away writers jobs, or developing a show without a true scribe, I want you to imagine ... in fact I want you to close your eyes right now ... I want you to imagine President ... Theodore ... Nugent.

And never fuck with writers again.

And another thing ... for the love of god, please don’t reboot Barney Miller. That show was perfect. Do not reboot Barney Miller.

Now given the climate, the WGA thought it would be in poor taste to bring out some scantily clad women, to hand out the trophies, so instead tonight I present to you, the trophy maids ... [handmaid’s tale dress ups] The trophy maids will be handing out awards.

Fantastic, yes

Please give it up for Of William Goldman, and Of Gavin Pallone. There you go right there.

And then just to make sure there was no hint of sexual attraction on stage, the Guild hird me.

And while we understand you writers are generally seen but not heard, which is very unfair, we only have the room until 7.30. I’m sorry ... there’s a My Little Pony Convention, they signed on for it, the Bronies.

Orson Welles as Shylock: 'For suffrance is the badge of all our tribe', The Merchant of Venice, Dean Martin Show - 1968

25 January 1968,

Good evening,

Dean asked me if I'd do a little Shakespeare, I decided to do something from The Merchant of Venice, you know, Sjhakespeare said just about everything that needed to be said on every subject,  and I think on the matter of bigotry, no one has ever spoken out better than he has three hundred years ago, so I'm going to do a short scene from the Merchant of Venice.

Just imagine that I'm Shylock, an old Jewish moneylender, who lives in the Jewish ghetto of Venice, hated by the Christians, and he is approached by his old enemy, the merchant Antonio who wants to borrow 3000 ducats.

Signior Antonio, many a time and oft
In the Rialto you have rated me
About my moneys and my usances:
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug,
For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog,
And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,
And all for use of that which is mine own.
Well then, it now appears you need my help:
Go to, then; you come to me, and you say
‘Shylock, we would have moneys:’ you say so;
You, that did void your rheum upon my beard
And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur
Over your threshold: moneys is your suit
What should I say to you? Should I not say
‘Hath a dog money? is it possible
A cur can lend three thousand ducats?’ Or
Shall I bend low and in a bondman’s key,
With bated breath and whispering humbleness, Say this;
‘Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last;
You spurn’d me such a day; another time
You call’d me dog; and for these courtesies
I’ll lend you thus much moneys’?

To bait fish withal: if it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge.
He hath disgraced me, and hindered me half a million;
laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies;
And what’s his reason? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes?
Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions?
Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is?
If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?
If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that.
If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge.
The villany you teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction.

George Carlin: 'I’m a modern man, a man for the millennium', Mark Twain award acceptance - 2011

5 November 2005, Beacon Theatre, New York City, New York, USA

I’m a modern man, a man for the millennium. Digital and smoke free. A diversified multi-cultural, post-modern deconstruction that is anatomically and ecologically incorrect. I’ve been up linked and downloaded, I’ve been inputted and outsourced, I know the upside of downsizing, I know the downside of upgrading. I’m a high-tech low-life. A cutting edge, state-of-the-art bi-coastal multi-tasker and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond!
I’m new wave, but I’m old school and my inner child is outward bound. I’m a hot-wired, heat seeking, warm-hearted cool customer, voice activated and bio-degradable. I interface with my database, my database is in cyberspace, so I’m interactive, I’m hyperactive and from time to time I’m radioactive.

Behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve, ridin the wave, dodgin the bullet and pushin the envelope. I’m on-point, on-task, on-message and off drugs. I’ve got no need for coke and speed. I've got no urge to binge and purge. I’m in-the-moment, on-the-edge, over-the-top and under-the-radar. A high-concept, low-profile, medium-range ballistic missionary. A street-wise smart bomb. A top-gun bottom feeder. I wear power ties, I tell power lies, I take power naps and run victory laps. I’m a totally ongoing big-foot, slam-dunk, rainmaker with a pro-active outreach. A raging workaholic. A working rageaholic. Out of rehab and in denial!

I’ve got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant and a personal agenda. You can’t shut me up. You can’t dumb me down because I’m tireless and I’m wireless, I’m an alpha male on beta-blockers.

I’m a non-believer and an over-achiever, laid-back but fashion-forward. Up-front, down-home, low-rent, high-maintenance. Super-sized, long-lasting, high-definition, fast-acting, oven-ready and built-to-last! I’m a hands-on, foot-loose, knee-jerk head case pretty maturely post-traumatic and I’ve got a love-child that sends me hate mail.

But, I’m feeling, I’m caring, I’m healing, I’m sharing-- a supportive, bonding, nurturing primary care-giver. My output is down, but my income is up. I took a short position on the long bond and my revenue stream has its own cash-flow. I read junk mail, I eat junk food, I buy junk bonds and I watch trash sports! I’m gender specific, capital intensive, user-friendly and lactose intolerant.

I like rough sex. I like tough love. I use the “F” word in my emails and the software on my hard-drive is hardcore--no soft porn.

I bought a microwave at a mini-mall; I bought a mini-van at a mega-store. I eat fast-food in the slow lane. I’m toll-free, bite-sized, ready-to-wear and I come in all sizes. A fully-equipped, factory-authorized, hospital-tested, clinically-proven, scientifically- formulated medical miracle. I’ve been pre-wash, pre-cooked, pre-heated, pre-screened, pre-approved, pre-packaged, post-dated, freeze-dried, double-wrapped, vacuum-packed and, I have an unlimited broadband capacity.

I’m a rude dude, but I’m the real deal. Lean and mean! Cocked, locked and ready-to-rock. Rough, tough and hard to bluff. I take it slow, I go with the flow, I ride with the tide. I’ve got glide in my stride. Drivin and movin, sailin and spinin, jiving and groovin, wailin and winnin. I don’t snooze, so I don’t lose. I keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road. I party hearty and lunch time is crunch time. I’m hangin in, there ain’t no doubt and I’m hangin tough, over and out!