SB: Uh huh. I love that.

MS: “…a cigarette come to life—”

SB: That’s Paul Mooney’s line. That was the first thing he ever said. He said [in Mooney voice], “Bernhard, you’re a cigarette come to life.”

MS: What did that mean to you?

SB: That I was skinny and fabulous and had red hair, and that I was just like a crazy, fiery, little beast. I think they’re apt descriptions of the different elements of what make me up, and [exaggerated voice] what wake me up, what shake me up!

MS: I think you said it best when you described yourself as an “emotional stripper.” Can you elaborate on that?

SB: The kind of, like, dangerous aspect of being a performer, which is a more in-your-face aspect of it. That doesn’t necessarily connote vulnerability; it connotes more of that kind of vaudevillian, burlesque aspect of being a performer.

MS: I love what Camille Paglia wrote about you—that you brought vaudeville back.

SB: Well I sure tried, kid. I tried.

MS: I want to talk to you about censorship. I’m thinking about past incidences such as your father threatening to sue you if you mentioned him in your act. I’m thinking about columnist Laurie Stone putting the kibosh on the usage of her voicemail in your act. More recently, there was the Sarah Palin gang-rape joke—which was clearly taken out of context, yet you were removed from the line-up of a fundraiser for a women’s homeless shelter. Is this kind of censorship par for the course in your line of work? Is it defeating or does it add more fuel to your fire?