Welcome back to the Deep Dive. Our mission today,
it's pretty laser focused. We are plunging right
into the, well, let's just say complicated, often
hilarious, and yeah, sometimes controversial
world of Ari Shaffir, comedian, writer, and really
a digital pioneer. We've got a big stack of source
material here. Covering his whole trajectory,
we're going to distill the key facts, biography,
his stage work, how he uses podcasting. Trying
to get to the core of the material that really
defined him, his public image. Exactly, what
made him him. And setting that context is, I
think, absolutely the bedrock for this deep dive.
Because, you know, when you look at modern stand
-up, Shafir represents this really distinct path.
It's becoming more common, actually. One that
relies, you know, less on the traditional structures,
late night shows, network gatekeepers, that kind
of thing. Right. The old way. Totally. And it's
almost entirely about cultivating your own digital
space, your own multi -platform ecosystem. So
our focus today is figuring out how those pieces
fit together, the building blocks. Yeah, exactly.
How did these seemingly contradictory things,
his intense personal background and then this
long kind of painful grind on stage, how did
they let him? create, and importantly, control
his own content. Okay, let's just dive right
in and give you, the listener, a few surprising
nuggets right at the start. Good idea. I'll come
in. Because this journey, it is anything but
conventional. Seriously. Far from it. The story
involves this huge transition from a really specific,
observant, orthodox Jewish upbringing. Which
is critical context. We absolutely need to unpack
that. Definitely. And then somehow... That same
path includes a stint as an NCAA athlete. And
get this. What? He reportedly claims he was the
lowest ranked NCAA athlete, like, in the whole
country. Lowest ranked. That's a bold claim.
Isn't it? And then after all that, there's this
long, like, brutally tough apprenticeship he
served at the legendary comedy store in L .A.
Wow. Okay, that combination. Religious rigor,
academic study, athletic failure. Huh. Alleged
failure. Lowest ranked anyway. Right. Lowest
ranked. And then just pure artistic tenacity.
It creates this like fascinating profile. Totally.
Those foundational contradictions, you can see
how they fuel his unique perspective. Often pretty
aggressive, right? So sure. And to really understand
that, we got to start at the beginning. Okay.
Section one, the foundations. Let's dig in. Ari
David Shafir, born in New York City, 1974. Sources
note his family was Jewish. Romanian descent.
That's sort of the background detail. That's
the stage. But the defining element really cited
everywhere is the family history. His father
was a Holocaust survivor. Right. And that immediately
sets this incredibly weighty context into specific.
It just creates this sense of like. gravitas
in history that you feel permeates his identity
later on it has to but what's really formative
here i think is the evolution of his religious
experience the family initially followed conservative
jewish practices which is you know generally
more modernized maybe less demanding than orthodoxy
but then when ari was nine they moved to maryland
and at that point his parents adopted orthodox
jewish beliefs whoa okay that's a massive shift
for a nine -year -old especially huge fundamental
we're not talking about like changing synagogues
this is adopting a highly structured strict all
-encompassing way of life Right. During those
really critical developmental years. That's got
to leave a mark. Exactly. This foundational pivot.
Right. Moving from relatively accommodating conservative
practice to the intense demands of orthodoxy.
It means he was steeped in deep structure dogma.
Only to later become someone who questions absolutely
everything. Precisely. It almost inherently installs
this perspective of critically analyzing rigid
systems, which is, I mean, pretty much the mission
statement of his later comedy and definitely
his podcast, Skeptic Tank. So he didn't just
grow up in one environment. He experienced this
deep cultural, spiritual, like, rerouting. Yeah,
a complete shift. And it's interesting how that
then kind of informs his academic journey, too.
He went to high school in Rockville, Maryland.
But the religious pursuit didn't stop. He went
deeper. spent two years at a yeshiva in Jerusalem
studying sacred texts. Which is an intensely
rigorous academic environment. Yeshivas are all
about deep text study, analysis, commentary,
philosophical debate. It's serious stuff. So
imagine taking that super structured... ancient
method of deep textual analysis. Right. That
way of thinking. And then returning to the U
.S., transferring to the University of Maryland
College Park and pursuing, you know, standard
modern academics. It's quite a contrast. He eventually
graduated in 1999, degree in English literature.
So you've got this background, intense religious
study, discipline, analysis, interpretation.
Followed by literature. Both fields all about
narrative, context, the power of language. It's
like perfect training for crafting stories, right?
Even if the stories end up being told on a comedy
stage. It absolutely trains the brain for complexity.
And here's that weird bit of trivia again that
just makes his path so odd. The Arlington Cemetery
thing? Yeah, when he was just 16, he worked at
Arlington National Cemetery. Wow. That's a very
somber place. Historical. Structural. Especially
a teenager, right? Yeah. Especially one who'd
just been deep in religious structure to then
be in a place dedicated to national memory and
mortality. Gives you a unique perspective, I
imagine. Has to. A perspective most comedians
probably don't have. But the real curveball,
especially given what he does now, is the NCAA
connection. We got to talk more about that. Okay.
Lay it out. his collegiate athletic career. So
sources confirm Shafir played on the University
of Maryland's NCAA golf team, 1995. Golf, okay.
Precision, focus, internal discipline. Right,
and it puts him inside that structure of serious
college athletics, commitment, practice, the
whole deal. What the anecdote everyone remembers
is his own claim about his rank. Exactly, that's
the defining part. His assertion that he was
at that time the lowest ranked NCAA athlete.
Which, I mean... Whether it's literally true
or not. Doesn't almost matter, right? Yeah. The
fact that he champions that detail tells you
so much about the narrative he embraces. Which
is what? Ambition meets reality. Yeah, and like
the willingness to just keep grinding even if
you are objectively dead last on the scoreboard.
That low ranking thing, it almost sounds like
a perfect comedy origin story. Like intentional
branding. It does, doesn't it? It takes incredible
persistence to keep showing up knowing you're
the worst player. Which sounds exactly like,
well, the first few years of trying to make it
in stand -up. It's a flawless psychological segue,
isn't it? If college sports was about persistence
at the bottom. Then comedy was about the relentless
multi -year hustle just to earn the right to
maybe move up one tiny step. Exactly. The grind
is legendary, especially in L .A. And the sources
tell us his very first and only stage time before
moving to L .A. was in his early 20s, an open
mic. At a sports comedy place in Northern Virginia.
Wow. One night. Yeah. Probably forgettable. Highly
specific, likely forgettable venue. Yeah. And
that's important because it means he didn't like
hang around his hometown scene trying to figure
it out. Right. After graduating in 99, he made
the big move. Straight to Los Angeles. Explicit
goal. Improved his chances as a stand -up. He
knew he had to be where the action was. The epicenter.
The major leagues. And the epicenter back then,
I mean, arguably still is, but especially then,
was the comedy store. Right. The legendary club.
But getting in there wasn't some big stage debut.
The sources really paint this picture of starting
at the absolute bottom. He answered phones there.
Entering phones at the comedy store. Not exactly
glamorous. Not a shortcut. It was pure immersion.
He wasn't performing. He was taking reservations.
Then he worked his way up cover booth, taking
cash, managing the list, then working the door.
These are like the classic unglamorous essential
jobs that keep a club running. Totally. But they
put you inside, you breathe the air, you watch
the masters work every single night, you see
how it all operates. Okay, but this is crucial
for understanding that painful grind idea. What
does working the door actually teach you that
doing open mics wouldn't? Oh, loads. It teaches
context, control, crowd psychology, stuff no
comedy class can touch. How so? You're not performing,
you're observing. managing the flow. You see
how crowds arrive, why they laugh, when they
bail, what mood they're in. It's like this immersive
education and audience mechanics, the business
side. And here's the stat that just captures
the brutality of it all. It took four and a half
years before the owner, the legend Mitzi Shore,
finally made him a paid regular. Four and a half.
Years. That is an eternity in show business time.
It really is. Four and a half years of working
those club jobs, probably doing unpaid spots
whenever he could, just to earn the right to
be on the schedule and get, what, like 50 bucks
for a set? Something like that, yeah. Maybe less
back then. It just speaks volumes about the persistence
needed for even the smallest bit of recognition.
It proves that discipline, right? The yeshiva,
the golf course. That long, sustained effort,
even without immediate reward, it was perfectly
transferable to comedy. Absolutely. So moving
from that intense prep period, you see his influences
start to solidify. He mentions watching showcase
comedy shows on TV, comedians on Carson. The
classics. Tight jokes, mass appeal lineage. Right.
But his taste clearly evolved. He cites Bill
Burr as his favorite living comedian. OK, that
tells you a lot right there. Burr's style. Unfiltered,
aggressive, opinionated, challenges assumptions.
Exactly. Not just observational stuff. And that
aggressive style definitely informed his own
early breakthrough. Which wasn't on TV initially,
right? Unlike a lot of his peers waiting for
that sitcom or late night spot, Shafir's wider
recognition really started online in the viral
digital space. The Amazing Racist. The Amazing
Racist. Classic early viral hit. It was him in
like heavy prosthetics and makeup. Yeah, we're
onto that. Approaching strangers, trying to provoke
reactions based on stereotypes, racial. Cultural.
Super controversial. Totally. But it was his
first big demo of using that aggressive premise
work combined with self -produced video to just
bypass the gatekeepers entirely. And it worked.
It got attention. Massive accelerant. From there,
the road visibility really picked up. And critically,
it linked him to that whole burgeoning comedy
ecosystem built around Joe Rogan. Right. The
Rogan connection is huge. He became an opening
act for Rogan in the late 2000s. And that meant
touring with this like. crucial group of comics
who basically defined the next wave of podcast
driven stand -up. Who was in that group again?
Joey Diaz, Duncan Trussell, Tom Segura, Brian
Redman, Eddie Bravo. Wow. That's like the Mount
Rushmore of early comedy podcasting almost. Pretty
much. That touring group is the foundational
DNA of that whole scene. Getting into that circle
just accelerated everything for him, gave him
a network, a built -in audience for later digital
stuff. You also got some traditional validation
there, right? Montreal? Yeah. Appeared at the
Montreal Comedy Festival in 2009, part of The
Nasty Show, which kind of confirmed... okay,
this guy can handle dark, explicit material even
in a more mainstream festival setting. And all
this success meant moving around. Yeah. Needed
geographic flexibility, kept a strong L .A. presence,
but went bi -coastal in 2012, L .A. and NYC,
then moved full time to New York in 2015. So
established player on both coasts, diversifying
his audience, his opportunities. Right. But Shafir
wasn't just going to be a road dog or an opener
forever. Section three is where he really shifts
from performer to like actual content creator,
executive producer. And the big one here is this.
is not happening that show was a massive pivot
because it proved the power of a simple universal
format he created it produced it hosted it started
as a monthly live show in 2010 with eric abrams
and the concept was just brilliant in its simplicity
totally stand -ups telling true stories often
totally wild, unbelievable, hilarious, sometimes
shocking stories, all centered around a theme
each show. It tapped into that raw personal narrative
thing. Let comics be storytellers, not just joke
machines. Exactly. And that live show caught
on, became a fixture at big comedy festivals.
Then by 2013, it debuted as a web series. And
then The Big Leap. The Big Leap premiered on
Comedy Central January 2015. That solidified
him. Major network creator, host. Big deal. OK,
but this leads to that tension, right? Creative
freedom. versus network constraints. Always the
tension. And Shafir made this key career move
in 2017. He left the show, voluntarily walked
away as producer and host. Wait, hang on. He
left his own hit show on Comedy Central. That
seems like a huge gamble, professionally, financially.
What did the sources say about that risk? It
was definitely a calculated risk, but it reflects
that growing power shift towards streaming platforms.
And the core reason he left, it speaks directly
to platform loyalty and content ownership. Okay.
He sold his third special, Double Negative, to
Netflix, instead of keeping it in -house at Comedy
Central. Ah, so that was the breaking point.
Seems like it. He basically prioritized the global
reach and presumably the creative freedom Netflix
offered for his standup. Over his executive role
on the successful format show, The Traditional
Network. Exactly. He chose to protect his own
material, his special, rather than his showrunner
gig. Performer's freedom over executive security.
Makes sense for him, actually. Totally fits his
trajectory. And after he left, Roy Wood Jr.,
Fantastic Comics, stepped in as host. Which kind
of proved the format itself was strong. It could
survive its creator leaving. The show lived on.
Yeah. Okay, but before you get to that point,
that platform power, we should mention the side
hustle. The thing most comics have to do to survive
the grind. Commercial work. Oh, yeah. The sources
definitely highlight that. He spent several years
making apparently pretty good money as a commercial
actor. Paying the bills while funding the dream.
Absolutely. And these were big, visible ads.
Coke Zero, Subway, Domino's, Bud Light. Huge
brands. Which requires a totally different skill
set, right? Yeah. Like a sanitized, marketable
persona. Yeah. Nothing like his stand -up. Complete
opposite. Was that ever a distraction? Like,
did he risk becoming the Subway guy instead of
Ari Shaffir, the comedian? Well, it certainly
provided opportunities. He even did a small part
in a feature film, Keeping Up with the Joneses,
in 2016. But by 2017, he was really clear about
his priorities. He stated pretty explicitly he
had no interest in pursuing acting work if it
took him away from standup. So standup was always
the core mission. Always. The acting, the commercials,
that was a means to an end. Pragmative way to
survive financially while building the comedy
career he actually wanted. The destination was
always the stage, amplified by his own platforms.
Which brings us perfectly to the absolute engine
of his modern career, the podcast ecosystem.
This is where he truly cemented his relevance,
his creative freedom, and crucially, his ability
to build long form context around his comedy.
And you can't talk about his podcasting without
starting with the Joe Rogan nexus. That connection
isn't just a footnote. It's like foundational.
Totally foundational. Shafir appeared on the
third ever episode of the Joe Rogan experience
back in 2010. Wow. Episode three. That's ground
floor. absolute inception of what became you
know the biggest podcast on earth and by showing
up consistently he's been on what 59 times since
something like that yeah he benefited massively
from that cross -pollination built an audience
of people already into long -form rambling boundary
pushing chats and that collaboration became even
more formal recently right Yeah. In 2021, he
joined Rogan, Mark Norman and Shane Gillis as
a regular guest on the Protect Our Parks episodes.
So now he's part of this recurring comedy roundtable
within the massive JRE structure. Constant fresh
exposure to millions. Huge platform boost. But
crucially, he also built his own long form thing
in parallel. And this show, Skeptic Tank, really
speaks volumes about his intellectual curiosity.
He hosted that solo from 2011 to 2023. That's
a 12 year run. which is ages in podcast years.
Phenomenal run, especially in that rapidly changing
digital landscape. And Skeptic Tank wasn't your
typical comedian interview show, was it? Not
at all. The format was kind of brilliant, actually.
Really lent itself to deep, sometimes philosophical
talks. You'd pick a subject, and the guests,
usually other comedians, would discuss it as
if they were genuine experts on that topic. Okay.
The comedians as experts frame. Yeah, that's
the comedic utility, right? It allowed for these
deep meandering, often hilarious discussions,
but without the pressure of needing like actual
verifiable facts all the time. It was about exploring
the idea, the theme, the personal take. And the
range of topics is huge. Show the power of that
long form medium. Sure, they need comedy stuff,
road stories. Of course. But the sources confirm.
The show tackled really serious issues, too.
Stuff maybe too sensitive or complex for a stand
-up set. Exactly. Episodes digging into mental
health, suicide, rape, prison life. Heavy subject.
The podcast format gave him the space, the time,
the context to handle that stuff more comprehensively.
Maybe not always perfectly, but with depth. It
let him explore that intellectual, skeptical
side. Questioning dogma, which links right back
to his yeshiva background, his academic side.
Makes sense. Oh, and a fun little detail. The
comedy team, Danish and O 'Neill, they were on
every 50 episodes, like a recurring tradition.
Nice. He also did collaborative stuff early on
too, right? Punch Drunk Sports. Yeah. Co -hosted
that sports pod with Sam Tripoli and Jason Thibault
starting back in 2013. Showed he could play in
that collaborative space too across different
genres. But he kind of faded from that one. His
appearances got less frequent after he moved
to New York full time in 2015. Makes sense. Harder
to coordinate probably. Gotcha. And we should
also mention... His ties to that broader network
of, let's say, edgier comics. Yeah. Like being
voted president of the Legion of Skanks podcast.
Right. Reinforces his place within that specific,
often controversial corner of the comedy world.
OK, so after 12 years of Skeptic Tank, we see
the next evolution. A new podcast launched in
2024. You'd be tripping. This feels like a significant
shift for a solo venture. The focus moves from
abstract themes or concepts. Like in Skeptic
Tank. Exactly. To really experiential narratives,
grounded in shared global experience. It's a
travel podcast. Okay. What's the angle? Exploring
travel experiences, guests from different backgrounds
talking about their journeys, personal stories,
the pitfalls, the do's and don'ts of moving around
the world. And he's got the experience for it
himself, right? Definitely. On that first episode
with Andrew Santino, it was mentioned, Shafir
himself has traveled to something like 42 countries.
Wow. That's serious mileage. So a new context
heavy direction focused on what connects and
divides people across borders. Interesting shifts.
OK, let's pivot to the recorded work itself,
because ultimately, even with all the podcasting,
Shafir is still defined by his stand up. Right.
The specials, the albums. That's the core output.
Yeah. And it's extensive, often conceptually
ambitious, really leverages his personal history.
His first big release was Revenge for the Holocaust.
2012. I mean, that title alone tells you everything.
Right. Immediately signals, I'm going there.
Tackling super sensitive, intensely personal
stuff, using his family background as premise
material. And it worked. Commercially. Big time.
Number one comedy album on iTunes and Amazon
its first week. Confirmed he could mobilize that
growing fan base from touring and digital into
actual sales. And then he moved pretty quickly
into film specials. Yep. Passive Aggressive in
2013, produced for Chill .com. Then two years
later, Paid Regular premiered on Comedy Central
in 2015. And that launch was timed perfectly,
wasn't it? Masterclass in Synergy, Paid Regular
premiered the same week his show, This Is Not
Happening, debuted on the same channel. Dual
-pronged attack. cemented his Comedy Central
presence. And that title, Paid Regular, obviously
calls back to that intense four and a half year
grind at the store we talked about, using that
earned status as the theme. But the most unique
project, conceptually, was Double Negative. Netflix
2017. The one that caused the split. With Comedy
Central. Right. This was a statement about format
just as much as content. How so? It challenged
the standard hour -long special. Double negative
was two distinct 45 -minute shows based on the
idea of a double album, which you rarely see
in comedy. Okay. What were the two parts called?
Part one was children. Part two was adulthood.
What was the idea behind structuring it like
that? What was the ambition? It let him build
a real narrative arc across the two linked pieces,
gave it more thematic depth. Children focused
on, you know, innocence, the absurdities of being
young, while adulthood went darker. More complex
realities, responsibilities, maybe some of the
nihilism that comes with maturity. It felt like
a conscious effort to make it more than just
a string of jokes. A cohesive story. And his
later work keeps mining that personal territory,
right? Always bringing his identity forward.
Absolutely. By 2019, he was touring Ari Shafir.
Jew, which is now up on YouTube, like revenge
for the Holocaust. The title just puts it right
out there. Grappling with his religious cultural
identity provocatively, personally. He also uses
international stages a lot, doesn't he? Testing
grounds. Yeah. Affirms his status as a global
comic. He premiered both Double Negative and
Ari Shaffir, Jew at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival.
Which is known for being a tough crowd, a real
trial by fire for hour long shows. Exactly. And
we know he's still working. Upcoming special,
America's Sweetheart, apparently slated for 2025.
So the output continues. Okay, so this deep dive,
looking at a career often marked by provocative
material, it wouldn't be complete without addressing
that specific public incident, the one that really
complicated his standing for a while. Yeah, we
have to cover it. And it's really essential here
that we stick purely to the factual account,
the direct consequences detailed in the sources.
Maintain an absolutely impartial, objective tone,
no taking sides. Agreed. This is just reporting
what the sources say happened. The incident was
January 2020, right after the tragic death of
Kobe Bryant. Right. Shafir posted a video on
his Twitter and it caused this immediate, massive
public reaction. Outrage, really. Yeah. And the
sources give the specific unedited text of what
he said in that video, which we need to include
for accuracy. OK, what was the quote? He said,
Kobe Bryant died 23 years too late today. He
got away with rape because all the Hollywood
liberals who attack comedy enjoy rooting for
the Lakers more than they dislike rape. Big ups
to the hero who forgot to gas up his chopper.
I hate the Lakers. What a great day. Wow. OK,
that's direct. Extremely direct. And the public
outcry was instantaneous, severe, and it led
to immediate real world consequences in the stand
up world. A New York comedy club where Shafir
was scheduled to perform shortly after, they
canceled his shows. Pulled the plug. And the
sources are clear on why they canceled. It wasn't
just the club deciding they didn't like the joke.
No, the sources confirmed the cancellation was
due to external pressure. The club reported receiving
phone threats related to Shafir's upcoming adherence.
So direct threats to the venue itself because
of the comedian book there. That shows the immediate,
tangible blowback digital content can have on
physical venues. It really does. This whole incident
kind of functions as this. critical case study
in modern comedy dynamics, doesn't it? How so?
Well, the digital platform like Twitter gives
you this incredible freedom, incredible reach,
bypass censors, say whatever you want. But it
fundamentally strips away the context, the nuance
of a comedy club environment, the delirium, the
stage, the darkness, the shared understanding.
Yeah, it's just raw text or a raw video clip
circulating online. Exactly. And that provocative
statement, totally divorced from its intended
context, just exists as pure data. It invites
this unmoderated public reaction, retaliation,
and real consequences for the venues trying to
host the performer. It really crystallizes that
tension, doesn't it, between platform freedom
and, I guess, contextual responsibility. Right.
Or maybe just the reality of context collapse
online. Hashtag tag Galtro. Yeah. Context collapse
is a good way to put it. Okay. Wow. We have covered
a ton of ground here, tracing Ari Shaffir's path
all the way from, you know, an Orthodox Jewish
community in Maryland. To the global comedy stage.
Yeah. His career is really this testament to
adaptability, isn't it? Spanning deep cultural
roots, then viral videos, hitting network TV
success, pivoting to Netflix, and maybe most
importantly, building this really complex, dynamic,
self -owned podcast network. The synthesis seems
pretty clear, right? His career really demonstrates
how you almost have to integrate traditional
stand -up, that painful apprenticeship grind
he did, with self -produced digital content.
That integration is what gives guys like him
relevance now, and crucially, the creative freedom.
Freedom to tackle the kind of difficult, challenging
material he wants to do, the kind of stuff that
was the hallmark of Skeptic Tank. Exactly, that
intellectual exploration. But that freedom...
as we just discussed with the Kobe incident,
clearly comes with some complex responsibilities,
or at least consequences, regarding audience
reception context. Or, as he himself was quoted
saying, when you lose context, you definitely
lose comedy. Which brings us right to our final
thought. Something for you, the listener, to
kind of chew on. Okay. We know Shafir built his
career moving from these really specific context
-heavy roots, orthodoxy, NCAA golf failure, the
LA grind, into super provocative comedy, often
delivered on his own controlled platforms. So
given his own quote about needing context, how
might his newest platform, UB Trippin, which
is all about global travel, shared experiences,
talking to people from different backgrounds.
How might that challenge or change the kind of
content and context he deals with moving forward?
Interesting. Will focusing on like shared global
experiences maybe dilute that specific aggressive
voice he's known for? Or maybe it enriches it.
Provides a whole new framework for looking at
human contradictions just on a global scale instead
of a personal one. Fascinating question for a
comedian who's pretty much always defined himself
by walking right up to that line. Often stepping
over it. Food for thought. That is all the time
we have for this deep dive. Thanks for joining
us. We'll see you next time.