Have you noticed that nothing is ever quite funny enough?
Last night I was reading a story in the New Yorker and glancing at the cartoons and kind of gasping at how not funny they were. Hey, this is the New Yorker! It's not like there's some place else for all the better cartoons to go.
Back in the days of three, maybe four, networks, summer television was an odd wasteland, mostly re-runs with occasionally odd oases. Ray Stevens hosted a summer replacement series which offered the first full exposure to the dadaist comedy of a young unknown named Steve Martin.