Bill Maher Needs New Material

Normally when you perform an intervention, you try to gather up the person's closest friends, to give support. But because that's impossible for Bill Maher, it's up to me — a complete stranger — to do the heavy lifting.

Bill, you used to be funny. In fact, I maintain you still are — funny.

And I want to show you an example of how funny you can be vs. how unfunny.

Roll the Pentagon Truther joke from last week's "Real Time":


BILL MAHER, "REAL TIME" HOST: Speaking of crazy white people, do you know about these truthers? Do you know who these people are? I had to throw them out of the studio one night — the people that think 9/11 was an inside job, that the Pentagon was hit by a cruise missile. Well, yesterday one of them tried to shoot his way into the Pentagon. Or did he?


Now that's a good joke. If only Maher would have stopped there. Let him finish the riff, on our friend, Glenn Beck:


MAHER: He left a rambling, paranoid manifesto on the Internet about how the government was going after his freedom. You know it's sad when we see crazy, senseless deaths like this we can only ask why? Why, why, why couldn't it have been Glenn Beck?



And there you have it: A great joke, followed by a lazy crack that's meant to massage the like-minded assumptions of his sheep-like audience. It makes you wonder who wrote what: Did Bill write the good joke or the bad one? Or maybe no one wrote it, it was simply stolen?


"BRANDON ARMSTRONG", ANCHOR, THEONION.COM: Tragedy in the heartland today as a 17-year-old honor student, burned alive after being hit by an out-of-control speeding car — a grisly death only TV host Glenn Beck could deserve.

According to police, a car driving over 70 miles per hour in a 25 miles per hour zone struck young Rebecca Bunten as she was bicycling down a quiet street in Olatha, Kansas, shattering her ribcage and not Glenn Beck's. Tragically pinning her legs — not his — to a retaining wall...


But hey, maybe it's not stolen at all. Perhaps it's simply "repurposed!"


P.J. O'ROURKE, WRITER: It's the twilight of the radio loudmouth. You know? I knew it from the moment the fat guy...

MAHER: Rush Limbaugh, Sean...

O'ROURKE: The moment the fat guy refused to share his drugs...


O'ROURKE: He never called, he never wrote. I'm ready to party! You know? C'mon! No, I think it's kinda over for those people.

MAHER: Right, you mean the OxyContin that he was on?

O'ROURKE: Yeah, exactly. That's stuff's good.

MAHER: Why couldn't have he croaked from it instead of Heath Ledger?

O'ROURKE: Yeah. Yeah.


Hey, who hasn't done that before!

But you have to wonder, if you're still making the "death joke" two years running, it's not just the joke that's getting old, it's you. So, as a favor, I thought we'd enlist some help from the "Red Eye" robots, who spent the weekend writing new gags, especially for you, Mr. Maher. Take it away robot writers:


"RED EYE" ROBOT THEATER ROBOT WRITER NO. 1: Hello, Mr. Maher. What an honor it is to write for you. I met you a few years ago at the Playboy Mansion when you were caught furiously masturbating in the Grotto. Anyway, here's a joke I know you will love:

A rabbi, a priest and a monk walk into a bar. The bartender says, "What will you have?"

They all say, "World peace."

The bartender says, "Oh, I thought you might say 'Glenn Beck dead.'"

They reply, "Well yes, but also."

"RED EYE" ROBOT THEATER ROBOT WRITER NO. 2: God, that's hysterical, Donny.

Hey Bill, I am a big fan of your work and saw you once at the Playboy Mansion. You were in a three-way with a bagpipe and a goat. Anyway, here's my joke:

A man walks into a diner and orders soup.

The waitress says, "We're out of soup."

The man says, "Well, that's too bad."

The waitress says, "Yeah, but on the bright side, maybe Glenn Beck will die today."

Then man laughs and shoots himself in the face.

"RED EYE" ROBOT THEATER ROBOT WRITER NO. 3: Ha, ha, ha. That's a good one, Bruce.

Hey Bill, I'm a big fan. You probably don't remember me, but we met at the Playboy Mansion. You were licking whipped cream off the buttocks of Robert Culp. Anyway, here's my joke:

What do you get when you cross an octopus with President Obama? I don't know, but I bet it wishes Glenn Beck was dead.

"RED EYE" ROBOT THEATER ROBOT WRITER NO. 4: God, that was a knee-slapper, Kenneth. Anyway, I don't have a joke for you, Mr. Maher, but you left your thong in the hot tub at the Playboy Mansion. I know it's yours because of all of the gray hairs.


They truly are a treasure. And if you disagree with me, then you should probably die of rectal cancer. Right, Sean?


SEAN PENN, ACTOR: I guess I've been so away from it all... in a tent camp in Haiti that I haven't had an awful lot of time to pay attention to... do I hope that those people die screaming of rectal cancer? Yeah. You know, but I'm not going to spend a lot of energy on it.


I knew he'd agree with me, the scamp!

Greg Gutfeld hosts "Red Eye with Greg Gutfeld" weekdays at 3 a.m. ET. Send your comments to: