I really want to tell you guys about The Gauntlet.

Feb 03, 2026 8:41 pm

What's up Camnation?


This month's newsletter is experimentally long and involved. Let me know what you think by replying to this email or DM'ing me on Instagram (where I'm posting a joke every day indefinitely!)


I really want to tell you guys about The Gauntlet.

I know the world is sick of hearing #HotTakes about generative AI, so I'll only mention it one or nine times in this email that's ultimately about how stepping out of your comfort zone is the only real way to make art, and ultimately-ultimately an advertisement for a show I'm on in April. And lowkey for the concept of improv.


Never before in human history did artists have to spend this much time and energy thinking about the "definition of art." Art is in our hearts and bones as human beings. Like love, envy, fear, hatred, friendship, vibes-- you just kind of get what it feels like. Art is a gunky, horny, fucked-up mess of human impulse that defies definition.


(I'm leaving those two hyphens there in place of an em dash, so you KNOW a human wrote this. And because I don't know the keyboard shortcut for an em dash.)


Reply to this email: what is the keyboard shortcut for an em dash?


But, coincidentally, my chosen art form concerns itself with tactfully applying language to convey distinct meaning, so of course I care a little bit about a working definition of art that distinguishes it from AI slop.


Merriam-Webster has a pretty good one, actually: "the conscious use of skill and creative imagination especially in the production of aesthetic objects."


(I can't believe I started an essay about being hacky with a Merriam-Webster definition. But you see how it's relevant, right?)


Art is effort applied to convey meaning. And like that viral Instagram graphic (that was ironically kind of ugly and hastily-made) said, Art By No One Means Nothing.


One of my favorite questions to ask my fellow standup comics is if they think what they're creating is art. There's three kinds of answers: (1) yes, (2) no, and (3) the self-deprecating "standup is art but mine isn't," which I'll call the Shit Man's Yes.


In my experience, no one who says no to that question in earnest is any good at standup. Not because they can't craft a joke, necessarily, but because if they're not trying to make art, they're probably not trying to say anything unique to their experience or perspective. They're not applying effort. They're not conveying meaning.


You see so many comics doing the same thing: absorbing and synthesizing existing standup comedy material, emulating the structure and cadence of that material, and packaging it as a new product. What does that remind you of?


What's the difference between hack comedy and AI slop? Besides a couple of bajillion gallons of wasted water?


Okay, using ChatGPT is obviously, at least environmentally, worse that good ol' fashioned red-blooded human theft, but I wish we were better at acknowledging hack comedy as plagiarism. In school we learned that rewriting someone else's findings as your own without a citation is plagiarism, even if you put it in your own words.


Of course, we all kinda did that shit anyway, but we were just trying to pass. But standup comedy is, at least, an elective hobby, and at most, a really stupid, difficult career path. Why do it if you're just trying to "pass"?


So how do you engage in the art of saying something, in a world where everything's been said before? Introducing: leave your comfort zone!


The only thing that hasn't been said before is the stuff that's unique to your experience, unique to the way your brain works. And the only way to access that is to let yourself be vulnerable. (And no, I don't mean starting a joke with "can I be vulnerable for a sec?" before saying something crass. That's hack, btw.)


I know this is an insanely unpopular opinion, but I've always found bad improv easier to watch than bad standup. I know. I know. Bad improv is clunky, painful, and wrought with secondhand embarrassment. But bad improv has something in spades that even mid-level standup comedy lacks: joy. Hope. Bravery.


There are famous, touring, Netflix-special comedians that lack the joy, hope, and bravery of an Improv level 3 graduation show. Regurgitating hacky, often mean-spirited, premises and punchlines that reiterate tired ideologies, or maybe worse-- lacking ideology at all.


I love watching improv. Even the hacky stuff (a waiter walks on to establish this where-less scene takes place at Olive Garden; a precocious 8-year-old announces she's eight; we cut to the straight man's therapist's office; someone steps out to say, "has this ever happened to you?") feels fresh, exciting, and surprising when it's couched in new and inventive contexts.


When the cast is on board for whatever, and the audience is on board for whatever, the "whatever" that happens is so delightful.


This joy is not inherent to improv (and sketch) over standup. But it's inherent to doing shit that isn't cool, and Kill-Tony-Instagram-Reels-crowdwork-style lame-ass hack boring standup comedy that requires no commitment, no boldness, and no sacrifice, is really IN right now.


Being obstinately, boldly, radically uncool is such a joyful experience.


Art is stepping out of your comfort zone.


I highly recommend it.


Which brings me to The Gauntlet: Comedy Battle Royale at Imposters Theater. A monthly standup, sketch, and improv show where 6 "combatants" who are good at some of those things have to do all of those things. Improvisers try standup & sketch for the first time, standups try improv & sketch for the first time, and so on. Everyone does stuff they're supposed to suck at, and it's the best local comedy show I've ever seen every time.


In a world full of Instagram Reels, AI slop, and clickbait, it is so energizing to be in a room full of people showing you a thing they worked really hard on.


The Gauntlet is vulnerable, surprising, brave, joyful, authentic, radically uncool, and damn funny.


I'm on the tournament of champions on April 4th at 9:30.


You can also see the show on February 7th & March 7th at 9:30. I'm not on those rounds, but you should go see them anyway. I'll be in the audience this Saturday (after headlining Imposters BIG Comedy Night) rooting on my friends Dezhawn France, TJ Maclin, Brandon Schoeppner, Chase Brown, and Matt Schwartz, and voting objectively based on performance because I love all of those people very much.


If you're not free to see The Gauntlet (or if 9:30 is past your bedtime), come check out Imposters Theater anyway. I feel endlessly honored and lucky to be a part of a place that works so hard to create good, brave, joyful comedy.


I told you this was an ad!!


Love,

Cam Godfrey

Mayor

Camnation


Related writing:

I used to be cooler. - A personal essay on caring what you think. I really, really, really hope you like it.


Dirty Bandaids(Stop Changing Your Comedy Shows for People Who Don’t Like Comedy Shows) - A deeply angry diatribe on gimmicky comedy shows I wrote at the bitterest I've ever been, influenced by the most bitter man I've ever loved, that never saw the light of day because I chilled out a little bit.


Upcoming shows:

Standup:


Improv:


Variety:







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