Welcome back to the Deep Dive. Today we're taking
a really extensive look at a life story that
honestly reads more like a tightrope walk than
a career path. We're talking about Mark Moshe
Kasher. Yeah. It's quite a story. And we're not
just, you know, listing achievements here, comedian,
writer, actor, host. We're diving into the sources
to understand how someone with such, well, extreme
contrasts in their background could even emerge.
It's a fascinating puzzle. We've got material
showing him as the child of deaf parents, actually
working as a sign language interpreter by 17,
growing up pretty poor in Oakland. But at the
same time, in and out of mental institutions,
dealing with addiction, crime. Before he was
even 16, right? Exactly. today is to trace that
path. How did this intense friction, you know,
North Oakland poverty versus Satmar Hasidic Brooklyn,
how did that forge the voice, the very specific,
versatile voice that launched his career? What
did all that chaos actually contribute? That's
the core question, I think. Because when you
look at the formal details, you see it reflected
right there. Born July 6, 1979 in NYC, ends up
in L .A. But the comedy itself. It demands that
background. How so? Well, the genres he works
in, observational, sure. But really, he shines
in black comedy, tackling those really dark,
taboo subjects and surreal humor, which kind
of throws logic out the window. Right. And his
topics are everyday life, sexuality, self -deprecation,
but also religion, race. politics, heavy stuff.
His whole life story basically is his source
material. He's almost tailor -made to talk about
these difficult things. And the industry noticed
pretty quickly, didn't they? It wasn't like a
slow build. No, not at all. 2009 was huge. iTunes
named him Best New Comic. It's a major nod, basically
saying, OK, this guy's got a unique, fully formed
thing going on. He could somehow package that
unbelievable past into jokes that worked. That's
incredible validation right out of the gate.
It really is. And that same year, his first album,
Everyone You Know Is Gonna Die. And then you
are, I mean, the title tells you a lot. Yeah,
definitely sets a tone. It hit the top 20 comedy
albums on iTunes. And then Punchline magazine
called him a comic to watch in 2010. So. yeah
the momentum was there people were ready for
his kind of difficult honest humor OK, so let's
dig into that foundation, that early life, because
the contrasts start immediately. Born in Queens,
New York, but that didn't last long. Right. The
family moved when he was just one year old. To
Oakland, California, specifically North Oakland,
growing up around Temescal, Piedmont Avenue neighborhoods.
And the context there is really important. The
sources stress that the family was living mostly
on disability assistance, food stamps. So not
an easy start financially. Not at all. It frames
that whole West Coast childhood scarcity, navigating
the system, that kind of thing. It's the bedrock.
And then layered on top of that, the really defining
piece, his parents were both deaf. Yes, they
met at the World Games for the Deaf back in 1967.
It's a central fact of his life. Which means
he grew up not just bilingual, but bicultural
in a sense. Hearing world, deaf world. Absolutely.
Think about that connection to his later comedy.
He's literally a bridge between these two distinct
ways of communicating, different rhythms, different
rules. But he wasn't just passively absorbing
it. He became a professional interpreter. Yeah,
starting at 17, which is remarkably young. Wow,
17. Think about that, listener. You're translating
complex stuff, legal, medical, maybe really emotional
conversations at that age. It requires intense
observation, understanding nuance, translating
it instantly. It's like communication boot camp.
You can see how that seal set, that hypervigilance,
that ability to synthesize and translate feeds
directly into comedy, right? Observing life's
absurdities and translating them for an audience.
Exactly. Understanding not just what's said,
but how it's said, the meaning underneath. Crucial
for observational comedy, crucial for black comedy.
But then you layer on another massive split.
The religious one. The religious one. His parents
split when he was nine. But even before that,
when Moshe was just four, his father, Stephen,
who came from secular, even communist Jewish
parents, had this huge transformation. He became
a Hasidic Jew, joined the Satmar community in
Brooklyn, which is, you know, a very traditional
ultra -Orthodox group. Wait, Satmar, so you're
telling me this kid is going from, like... subsidize
housing and the general vibe of north oakland
yeah pretty secular sometimes chaotic to spending
summers in seagate brooklyn with one of the most
insular strictly traditional anti -secular communities
out there every summer talk about cultural whiplash
It's almost impossible to imagine navigating
those two realities as a kid. That's intense
ideological friction right there. How do you
even process that? It makes you an outsider in
both worlds, doesn't it? Satmar Hesedism is known
for its separation from modern secular culture,
its strict rules. So he's bouncing between an
environment where, you know, maybe scare city
and street culture are realities and one where
tradition and religious law are absolute. And
this went on for years. Until his father passed
away when Kasher was 20. And we should also mention
his father lived with Goucher's disease. Oh.
Yeah, it's a rare genetic disorder, more common
among Ashkenazi Jews. So that adds another layer.
Chronic illness, maybe caregiving stress, financial
strain possibly, to that whole East Coast family
picture. And the family's religious ties didn't
end there, right? His brother. His brother is
actually a rabbi now. So that religious structure,
that lineage, it's still very present in the
family, even with Moshe's very different path.
OK, so now let's get into the period that really
defined his public narrative. The stuff from
his memoir, Cashier in the Rye. Which is such
a great dark title twist. Right. And the subtitle
pulls no punches. The true tale of a white boy
from Oakland who became a drug addict, criminal,
mental patient, and then turned 16. It lays it
all out there. And the time frame is stark, mostly
between ages 12 and 16. Intense drug use, crime.
But the mental health struggle started even earlier.
According to the memoir, yeah. He talks about
being moved in and out of mental institutions
starting around age four, four years old. That
suggests a really long, difficult struggle navigating
his own internal world within these extremely
challenging external circumstances. And getting
kicked out of four high schools. I mean, that
points to just constant disruption, constant
rejection. It's amazing he found a way through
that. It really is. Yeah. But the pivot is there.
He got his GED at 16. That was the escape hatch
in a way. A way to stop the motion. Exactly.
Right. And he talks about being Percy's straight
edge, now clean since he was very young. So that
survival story, that transition from chaos to,
well, relative stability and comedy, that's the
engine. And that engine, interestingly, didn't
immediately drive him to the stage. It drove
him to academia first. Which makes sense, right?
After all the chaos, maybe seeking structure,
order, understanding, he started a community
college. Studying theater. Okay, so performance
was maybe always in the back of his mind. Possibly.
Then he transferred to UC Santa Barbara. And
look at what he studied. Religious studies with
a minor in Jewish studies. I can go. After living
those extreme secular poverty versus rigid Hasidism,
he goes to university to formally study the history,
the philosophy, the rules of belief systems.
It's like he needed the intellectual framework
to understand his own life. Precisely. And apparently
before comedy really took over, he was seriously
thinking about becoming a college professor.
Jewish history. Wow. Imagine Professor Kasher.
It's a different path for sure. But you can still
see that academic rigor, that analytical approach
in how he dissects complex social issues in his
comedy now. He's not just making jokes. He's
analyzing the code. So connecting that academic
detour back to performance. How did he actually
make the jump into stand -up? It seems like quite
a leap from potential professor to open mic night.
Well, the story goes it was kind of a fateful
moment in 2001. He was in New York City, went
to an open mic. Just as an audience member. Initially,
yeah. And he sees Chelsea Peretti performing.
No way. Yep. Who he knew from junior high back
in Oakland. Small world, right? Totally. So seeing
her gave him the push? It seems like it. He basically
went up to her afterwards and said, hey, take
me with you next time I want to try performing.
That takes some serious nerve. Absolutely. Especially
coming from that almost academic background.
His actual first time on stage wasn't even in
New York. It was back in SF at an open mic at
the Lugged Store Gallery. Okay, so he dives right
in. Dives right in. And spends the early 2000s
really honing his craft in the Bay Area. He was
a regular at places like the Punchline, Cobb's
Comedy Club in San Francisco. That was his proving
ground. Developing that unique blend of trauma
comedy and sharp observation. Exactly. Figuring
out how to make that incredibly specific, chaotic
life experience relatable and funny. Then, like
many comics, he made the move to L .A. in 2008.
And then came 2009, that pivotal year we mentioned.
Yeah, that's when it really clicked on a bigger
scale. Winning Best of Fest at the Aspen Rooftop
Comedy Festival, that's a big deal in the industry.
And that opened doors. Immediately. Got him invited
to the Just for Laughs Festival in Montreal,
which is huge. Then the TV appearances started,
like Comedy Central's Live at Gotham, and of
course releasing that debut album. It all happened
fast once it started moving. It really validates
that he had something genuinely different to
offer, right? Built from that unique past. Completely.
It was this perfect convergence of critical acclaim
and audience connection, all fueled by material
that was just deeply, authentically him. Now,
something else that seems really important is
his writing. It wasn't just an afterthought to
the stand -up. No, definitely not. He was writing
seriously quite early on. There's this long -form
monologue, Look Before You Leap, that got published
way back in 2003. While he was still in college.
Yeah, in this collection called Monologues for
Men by Men, Volume 2. So the instinct to shape
his experiences into a narrative, a structured
piece, was there early. Interesting. Not just
punchlines. Right. And he wrote for Heed magazine,
too, in 2011, 2012. Kind of sharpening that written
voice before the big one, the memoir, Casher
and the Rye, came out in 2012. Which really cemented
that backstory for a wider audience. Absolutely.
That book was him taking all that personal history,
the trauma, the chaos, and turning it into, well,
intellectual property, artistic capital. He also
dipped into TV writing, got a credit for an episode
of The New Normal. Called, pardon me. That's
the one. And he's still writing. There's another
memoir coming out, Subculture Vulture, a memoir
in six scenes, expected in 2024. So he's clearly
someone who sees himself as an author who performs,
not just a comic who happened to write a book.
Okay, part three. Let's talk television presence.
Because after that 2009 breakthrough, he really
became a familiar face, didn't he? Oh, for sure.
He hit all the key stand -up platforms. Late
Night with Jimmy Fallon twice, 2010 and 2012.
Right. John Oliver's New York stand -up show
in 2011. He did Conan. Showtime's Larry Wilmore's
Race, Religion, and Sex. That Wilmore show seems
like a perfect fit, given his subject matter.
Totally. It shows he was comfortable diving into
those complex social and political topics, which,
again, links back to his background and his tendency
towards black comedy, dissecting identity, race,
faith. And it wasn't just U .S. audiences, right?
He took this stuff international. Yeah, that's
really interesting. Beyond Montreal, he played
the Catlass Festival in Kilkenny, Ireland, the
Melbourne Comedy Festival in Australia. Plus...
Big U .S. festivals like Fun Fest and South by
Southwest in Austin. So the humor travels. That
chaos is universal. Apparently so. Or at least
the way he frames it, the family dynamics, finding
your identity, questioning authority. Those themes
resonate pretty widely, it seems. And when it
was time for his own solo special, he went back
home. Symbolically, yeah. Moshe Kasher. Live
in Oakland. Recorded January 2012. Released on
Netflix. He filmed it at the New Parish Nightclub.
right there in his hometown that feels significant
bringing this big career milestone back to the
place where all that early struggle happened
it's like a reclamation isn't it saying look
i came through this and i'm bringing my success
back here it's not just telling stories about
oakland it's celebrating in oakland beyond stand
-up specials he branched out into other tv formats
too hosting acting right he was on chelsea lately
a lot as a panelist That was a great spot for
Comics with Quick Wits back then. Definitely.
And then he got his own show on Comedy Central,
Problematic with Marcia Kasher. Ah, yes, Problematic.
That seemed tailor -made for him. Absolutely.
Yeah. Premiered in 2017. He wrote it. He hosted
it. And the whole point was tackling controversial,
complex issues head on. You really see the religious
studies major coming out there wanting to foster
debate, analyze the tough stuff. Using comedy
to make difficult conversations accessible. Exactly.
Yeah. It was less about just landing punchlines
and more about insightful analysis. But then
there's his acting, which has some surprising
depth. Like what? Well, the standout role, the
one that really brings his unique background
full circle, was on Shameless. Oh, yeah. What
did he play? He played Ruben, a character who
is gay, deaf, and used a wheelchair. Wow. So
he actually used his sign language. He did. It
wasn't just, you know, learning a few lines.
He could bring genuine fluency and understanding
from his life as an interpreter to a complex,
dramatic role on a major show. That's incredible.
It really proves that none of that background
went away. Not at all. And he's popped up in
other strong roles, too. Played Moshe Feferman
on Transparent. Was Duncan Traub on Brooklyn
Nine -Nine, November on The League. Appeared
on Drunk History, The Good Place. So he's comfortable
moving between stand -up, writing, hosting, acting.
Pretty versatile. Very. He clearly enjoys exploring
different ways to perform and communicate. Okay,
so part four, Let's Talk Podcasts. Because Kasher
didn't just dabble, he really mastered the format,
exploring wildly different approaches. Yeah,
he jumped in relatively early and made a significant
impact. The first big one was The Champs. Right,
starting in 2011, co -hosted with Neil Brennan.
Co -creator of Chappelle's Show, yeah. And DJ
Doug Pound doing sound effects and beats. What
was the vibe of that show? Kasher himself described
it as basically him and Neil hosting an hour
of ridiculous chat with Doug adding sounds. Yeah.
But it had this very specific provocative hook
initially. Which was? Their concept was having
a rotating black guy guest each week. Oh, OK.
That's bold. Definitely bold. Very much in that
black comedy vein, pushing boundaries around
race. And they got some amazing guests because
of it. Wayne Brady, David Allen Greer, Questlove.
So it was intentionally structured around that
racial dynamic. Initially, yeah. Very much leaning
into uncomfortable territory, which, again, feels
connected to his background, his willingness
to go there. Did they stick strictly to that?
Mostly. But the sources say they occasionally
strayed from its guest format. Had people like
Bobby Lee, Jose Canseco, Aziz Ansari on too.
It clearly resonated, though LA Weekly named
it Best Podcast in 2014. It ran until 2016. So
a success. What came next? A real shift in tone
and format with How Untold Discussion Series.
This premiered in 2014 on the Nerdist Network.
How Untold. What was the concept there? This
one felt much more like the academic side of
Cashier coming forward. It was a live monthly
podcast focused on a single topic per episode.
Right. And the structure was key. An hour -long
chat with an actual expert on the topic plus
a panel of comedians. Ah, interesting. So like
serious knowledge meets comedic commentary. Exactly.
It's that perfect blend again. Yeah. Using his
intellectual curiosity to guide the deep dive,
but keeping it accessible and funny with the
comedian panel. The first episode, for example,
was about harems. Harem's. Okay. Yeah, the expert
was Jillian Lauren, who'd written about that
world. And the comedians were Pete Holmes and
Beth Stelling. So the comedians kind of act like
the audience, asking the dumb questions? Pretty
much. Or the absurd ones. It keeps it from getting
too dry. It's a great format for learning something
substantial while still being entertained. A
real deep dive podcast, you could say. Then things
got more personal. Right. In 2019, he launched
the Endless Honeymoon podcast with his wife,
Natasha Leggero. Also a comedian? Also a very
funny comedian. So this podcast really reflects
his current life stage marriage, parenthood eventually.
They basically turn their relationship, their
issues, their dynamic into ongoing content. That's
a classic comedian move, right? Mind your own
life. Must provide endless material. You'd think
so. It shows that collaborative side again, building
something creative out of their personal life.
And then most recently, bringing it truly full
circle. Back to the family. Back to the family.
In 2020. He started Kasher vs. Kasher. With his
brother. With his brother, Rabbi David Kasher.
Launched specifically during the pandemic to
talk about life, faith, navigating that weird
time. Wow. So the kid balancing secular Oakland
and Hasidic Brooklyn ends up co -hosting a podcast
with his rabbi brother. about modern life. It's
pretty remarkable, isn't it? It brings all those
threads, family, religion, his Oakland roots,
his Brooklyn summers, the intellectual curiosity,
the comedy all together in one project. Speaking
of that personal side, let's quickly touch on
those milestones in part five because they definitely
feed into his work now. For sure. So he married
Natasha Logero in October 2015. And she converted
to Judaism, right? Yes, that's noted in the sources.
Okay. Which adds another layer to how that cultural
and religious background continues to be part
of his shared life. And then they had a baby
girl in February 2018. And that partnership,
both personal and professional, led to more joint
work. It did. The big one was the Honeymoon Stand
-Up Special in 2018. It was released on Netflix,
but also as a comedy album. So they both performed.
Yeah, it was a co -headlining special, basically
weaving their individual stand -up with material
about their relationship, marriage, and pending
parenthood. It really showcases how their domestic
life became central creative fuel. Okay, and
just to round things out, let's quickly list
his main recorded works, his discography. It
shows that evolution. Right. Starts with the
big one in 2009. Everyone you know is going to
die. And then you are. That raw, edgy debut.
Then the homecoming special. Moshe Kasher, live
in Oakland from 2013, capturing that live energy
back home. Then the collaboration. The honeymoon
stand -up special with Natasha Leggero in 2018,
reflecting that partnership. And the latest.
Crowdsurfing Volume 1 from 2020. Which sounds
like it leans more into that spontaneous crowd
work energy he's also known for. So you see the
arc from solo trauma mining to collaborative
relationship stuff to pure improv energy. So
wrapping this all up, what's the big takeaway
for you, the listener, from this deemed dive
into Moshe Kasher's life and work? When we synthesize
this whole journey, it's really a story built
on navigating intense, almost unresolvable contradictions,
isn't it? Absolutely. You go from that incredibly
challenging youth mental health crises, addiction,
poverty, institutionalization to somehow getting
a GED at 16 and then pivoting to master academic
religious studies. And crucially, he didn't just,
you know, get through it. He actively used it.
He minded intellectually. All those experiences,
the poverty, the Oakland -Brooklyn split, his
parents' deafness, the religious whiplash, the
addiction became the fuel for this incredibly
diverse media career. The comedy isn't separate
from the hardship. It's born directly out of
it. Navigating deaf culture versus the hearing
world, addiction versus sobriety. Secular life
versus ultra -orthodoxy. Exactly. The subject's
everyday life, sex, self -loathing, religion,
race, politics. They aren't random picks. They're
the direct result of being an outsider, sometimes
an extreme outsider, in multiple conflicting
systems. It gave him that unique perspective,
maybe, the ability to see the absurdity in pretty
much any structure or institution, which explains
the black comedy, the surreal stuff. Definitely.
And that brings us to maybe a final thought,
connecting back to the very beginning. What's
the real lasting impact of all that time he spent
working as a sign language interpreter? You mean
on his comedy specifically? On his whole communication
style, yeah. Think about what that job demands.
You're not just swapping words. You're translating
complex thought, emotion, cultural nuance, timing,
rhythm instantly between two fundamentally different
modes of communication. It requires incredible
focus and empathy. Hypervigilance, clarity, this
almost uncanny ability to read subtext and intention,
working as that bridge between the deaf and hearing
worlds. It's like he received this profound training
in communication and observing human behavior
long before he ever thought about telling a joke
on stage. So that skill, translating across cultures,
translating silence into meaning, that's fundamental
to his art. I think you could argue that. It
gave him this unique capacity to take complex,
multilayered ideas, whether they're intellectual
or emotional or just plain absurd, and make them
understandable, make them land with an audience.
He learned how to make the unfamiliar resonate.
how to give voice to experiences that might otherwise
remain unseen or unheard. That skill, honed as
a teenager bridging two worlds, might be the
bedrock of his entire career as a communicator.