—Norm Macdonald
"Those are my principles, and if you don't like them...
well, I have others".
Groucho Marx
“ I am humorous, but the law bids me write seriously. I am
audacious, but the law commands that my style be modest. [. . . .] The
universal modesty of the mind is reason, that universal liberality of thought
which reacts to each thing according to the latter's essential nature.”
Karl Marx
"To live outside the law, you must be
honest".
Bob Dylan
By any stretch of the imagination, Norm Macdonald’s Based
on a True Story is not exactly a factual memoir. In fact, I would say there
is hardly any factual basis for it, but it is a very funny read. As David
Letterman said, “I have read Based on a True Story, and I
believe it to be largely bullshit, but it is very, very, very funny!” It is not
entirely made up of bullshit, but it is sprinkled with a few truths; however, most
events do not hold much water.
Norm Macdonald (1959–2021) was one of the most important voices
in late-20th and early-21st-century North American comedy: deadpan delivery, an
appetite for subversion, and a tendency to take jokes into uncomfortable
territory. For the reader studying Macdonald is not merely cultural nostalgia
but an opportunity to sharpen critical tools: to examine how humour reflects
class relations, ideological currents, individual psychology and the shifting
political landscape of the ruling class and its institutions. It is fair to say
that Macdonald stood on the shoulders of a long list of great American comics, including
Lenny Bruce, Bill Hicks, Richard Pryor, and George Carlin, to name but a few.
My introduction to Norm Macdonald was through the superb
American Comedy The Middle.[1]
I was unaware of his history on Saturday Night Live (SNL) or his groundbreaking
stand-up comedy. When Macdonald was told he had a cult following, he replied in
the book, “I quickly developed a cult following. That sounds pretty good, but
the truth is it’s the last thing you want to develop. The only time having a
cult following is a great thing is when you are actually in a cult. Then you
get to be a cult leader, and life is milk and honey… everyone thinks you are
God… you get to lie down with all the ladies from the cult… In a short matter
of time, you become drunk with power and begin to lie down with the men, also,
not because you want to, but just because you can. Yes, being a cult leader
with a cult following is fine work if you can find it. However, being a
stand-up comedian with a cult following means that most folks hate your guts.”[2]
Macdonald’s character in The Middle was Uncle Rusty. It is
extremely difficult to determine Rusty’s social type. Certainly, he was, in the
past, a worker, but he was a bit of a grifter and, at times, represented
small-business conservatism, also exhibiting working-class insecurity.
Macdonald’s work on The Middle is a masterful example of comedy, both in form
and content. His comic timing, silences, and persona were a joy to watch.
Macdonald’s comedy exemplifies the tensions of a semi-petty-bourgeois
cultural milieu whose ironic detachment both reflects and reproduces social
atomisation. His recurring themes are scepticism of elites and a delight in
subverting norms, but often a retreat into cleverness and anecdote. He offers a
case study in how cultural forms can register genuine grievances without
pointing to collective, class-based solutions.
The Middle sitcom captures the rhythms of precarious,
small-town life under late capitalism: juggling low wages, shrinking public
services, stalled upward mobility and the cultural weight of respectability politics.
The Middle” (the ABC sitcom) and a character like “Uncle Rusty” function, in
cultural terms, as a compact social text: they reflect and reproduce the
values, anxieties and ideological compromises of a broad layer of American life
— the suburban, small town and petty bourgeois milieu often called “middle America.”
Rusty and Macdonald, for that matter, were rebels without a
cause. He certainly had an anti-authoritarian air. Rather than adhering to a
strict ideology, his comedy and public persona focused on refusing to pander to
audiences or authority figures, such as when he mocked the idea of
"violent terrorists" respecting velvet ropes during the January 6th
Capitol riot.
Through his character Uncle Rusty, Macdonald critiques
cultural conservatism and populist resentment: he typically combines sharp jabs
of humour aimed at elites with an affirmation of traditional family values,
localism, and personal responsibility. This mixture can predispose audiences to
see social problems as moral or personal failures rather than systemic
contradictions. However, by framing Rusty’s flaws as quirks and resolving them
within the family, the show channels potential political anger into private
reconciliation and comic relief. This is a common function of mainstream
sitcoms in stabilising social relations. At times, the character can expose
managerial stupidity or precarity, offering openings for critique. The decisive
question is whether those openings are developed into a class explanation or
left as individual anecdotes; the show mostly expresses the latter.
As capitalism intensifies precarity, sitcoms like The Middle
shape millions of impressions about who is to blame and what can be done.
Understanding the show’s pedagogy helps organisers convert diffuse resentment
into class consciousness by exposing the gap between individual coping and
collective action.
Comedy is not a neutral amusement; it is a social form
rooted in class relations and the material conditions that produce ideas,
tastes and collective sensibilities. From a Marxist standpoint, comedy must be
analysed as part of cultural production: its forms, audiences and effects are
shaped by the economic base and the class forces that struggle within a given
historical epoch. Historically, comedic forms reflect shifts in class power.
Carnival, farce and satire in pre-capitalist and
early-capitalist societies allowed subordinate classes to mock elites—ritualised
inversions that temporarily loosened hierarchy. Under capitalist commodity
relations, new comic genres emerged (burlesque, stand-up, situation comedy),
shaped by urbanisation, wage-labour rhythms, mass media, and the
commodification of leisure. The avant-garde and revolutionary epochs produced
satire and grotesque comedy that targeted bureaucrats, profiteers, and false
consciousness; conversely, periods of reaction saw comedy co-opted to reinforce
nationalist, patriarchal, and consumerist norms.
Today, comedy circulates globally through streaming
platforms and social media, shaped by corporate algorithms and advertising
imperatives. Many comedians occupy precarious economic positions while
addressing issues—inequality, racism, surveillance—that concern working people.
This contradiction produces both sharp, politically conscious satire and
commodified “safe” humour that normalises neoliberal individualism.
The book has an overall tone of melancholy, of sadness,
which Norm carried throughout his life. But he also carried an antidote to that
in a sharp, rebellious comedy. Both the book and the TV series The Middle are
worth reading and watching. Macdonald was a fine exponent of his craft.
[2] Based on a True Story, Not a Memoir by Norm Macdonald
