Prizes: Win ASSSCAT 3000 tix Monday

Joining the prize armada this Monday: The Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre.

You're probably at least somewhat familiar with the UCB Theatre, a nexus of alt comedy in the city this past decade. I've seen some great stuff there over the years—and, to be fair, also some crap, but that's equally important for any comedy institution that takes chances.

And this week, we got tix to something that is most definitely not crap: UCB's marquee improv event, ASSSSCAT 3000 (any idea what the name means? or do I not really want to know?), every Sunday night at 7:30 and 9pm. Various big names get together for some of the UCB's trademark long-form improv—not the theater-games kind of improv, the more scene-oriented, less silly-gimmicky variety. As for who those big names are, it's folks from all the funniest programs on your TV set, like Saturday Night Live, Conan O'Brien, The Daily Show, and Glenn Beck. The 7:30 show is $10, and the 9pm one is free, but to get a ticket for that, you apparently have to line up, like, 37 weeks in advance or something. This show is stupidly popular, in other words.

But at this Monday's BQT, you have a chance to cut the line: Some lucky trivia/comedy hound will get a pass for two tickets to a 9:30 ASSSSCAT on the Sunday of their choosing. Hopefully, this will be the first of many UCB prizes at the BQT. Boo and ya.

Got a product/service that you'd like to hype via the BQT? Write info@bigquizthing.com—we're complete whores.

Quizmaster live: Geeking Out + Dark Neverending Adventures

Coolness: On December 18, I return to 92YTribeca, which is a classy yet eclectic venue (with a pretty fine café—I had an extremely tasty bowl of penne last time I was there), for not one, not three, not even 50 events, but two different shots of BQT-style trivia on the same night.
First, I'm taking part in an event that really, really has my name all over it. Kevin Maher's monthly series, Kevin Geeks Out, is a lot of fun, especially for people like you (and I know who you are). He and I have been trying to collaborate for some time, but the stars align for the December event, a holiday grab bag. I'll be doing a brief trivia spot with audience volunteers, for prizes, naturally.

Then later that evening, same venue (though possibly a different actual room—92YTribeca is rather labyrinthine), I'll be doing the preshow for a screening of that fondly recalled childhood distraction, The NeverEnding Story (I respect the CamelCase). It's part of the December film series Dark Neverending Adventures, a cavalcade of '80s fantasy films (before you click the link, see if you can guess what the other movies are; I know, not that much of a challenge). I'm going to be doing a set of questions about a variety of films, and these have been fun to put together; I find myself researching some wacky films I hadn't thought about in eons. Even The NeverEnding Story—haven't watched that since Amanda Saslow and her girlfriends forced me to sit through it after school one day in eighth grade (they thought the actor who played Atreyu was cute, coincidentally named Noah).

December 18, check the 92YT site for ticket info. While we're at it, I love doing as many events like this as possible—variety shows, unusual screenings, etc.—so e-mail noah@bigquizthing.com if you're in the booking business (and I work cheap, of course).

Adventures in bad trivia games

In honor of Thanksgiving, let me share a little family story: When I was a youngster, we were into games. Some favorites in the future-quizmaster household: Boggle (better than Scrabble, IMO), Sorry! (ceases to be fun past the age of 12), Clue (often inconvenient, since it needs at least three players), rummy cube (classic), the Hawaiian Punch game (honorable mention). We had a big closet of 'em, one of the joys of living in a large suburban house.

So in 1984, when American culture went through a brief spasm of trivia mania, and Trivial Pursuit became a significant sensation, my parents were quick to jump on the bandwagon. We tried playing as a family, but being well under puberty age, I had a lot of trouble with that dastardly original Genus edition. I somehow had a fighting chance with the blue questions—the Geography category, I was big into maps—but otherwise, it was a bloodbath (figuratively speaking; we weren't like that). Papa Quizmaster tended to find something better to do the second he got frustrated; Mama Quizmaster usually claimed victory.

The Pressman toy company (which would later get this song stuck in my head for 20 years) saw an opening and created a kid-oriented, galactic-themed trivia board game, Trivia Adventure. My parents bought it, we tried playing it, and discovered it was the single worst game ever invented by man. The questions came in two levels; Mom and Dad started me on easy, but when I was asked, "Is the Moon made of green cheese or rock?," they bumped me up to the supposedly challenging level. That's where I encountered tidbits like "What liquid are ice cubes made from?" That was it; Papa Quizmaster was so disgusted he brought the game back to Toys "R" Us. Shortly after, Trivial Pursuit issued its Young Players edition, and the appropriately unimaginatively named Trivia Adventure faded from memory.
Until last month. Walking through a street fair on the UWS, I encountered a battered copy of Trivia Adventure on a blanket, for sale. Nostalgia was stirred; I picked it up and examined it. The woman attending the booth said she'd give it to me for $3. It now sits in my living room.

Sucks, blows chunks, bites the big dick of hell: However you want to say it, this is a horrible trivia game. It's not just the stunning simplicity of a question like "What fruit is used in apple pie?" It's that far too many of these questions are too vague to really work, especially for children: "What do some women wear on their earlobes?" (sexist to boot). "What is the state of Florida most famous for?" (I'd say alligators or old people or election controversy, but they were looking for oranges). "What planet has many rings around it?" (perpetuating a common misconception). Pity the genius child who correctly says "Uranus" for the last question.
Another problem: the inconsistency. The easy "A" level includes both questions like the ice-cube one and "What movie featured apes as rulers and humans as slaves?" Or, amazingly, "Who attempted to run across Canada on one leg to raise money for cancer research?" (which, under other language, has been asked before at the Big Quiz Thing). This is an actual example of a complete question card:

"A" (easy) level
What is the name of French currency?
How many dots does the symbol for the word "therefore" have?
"B" (challenging) level
What are the Academy Awards give for?
Who led the German Nazi war effort in World War II?

Insane. I mean, not that the average five-year-old would find the "B" level a piece of cake, but the "A" levels seem flat-out impossible for any child who isn't a math prodigy living in Provence.

I have not played this game since (re)purchasing it, and most likely never will; I have far more important trivia games to waste my time with, as you are no doubt aware.

BQT recap: Change is good

Plus, Above, you see the image from question No. 1 in tonight's video round, "Celebrities vs. Monsters." Funny, right? Worth it, even though it's pretty easy to name both the celeb and the monster (or rather, the movie that the monster is from). We have fun at the Big Quiz Thing. Plus, tonight's audio round, "This Song Title Is Unnecessarily Long, Wouldn’t You Say So?," was a challenge for the mind and the carpal tunnel nerve.

These were highlights of an excellent quiz (despite complaints of Macedonia being a boring question topic, or Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand not being up for "reelection" next fall). We witnessed the birth of the Not-So-Secret Secret Clue on this question: "What is probably the most populous bird on earth?" If you read this blog, or followed us on Twitter, or were a fan on Facebook, you knew that there's no way "pigeon" is correct.

Now, as for the big announcement at the end of the show: Next BQT, December 7, we're trying something new. To shake things up at the very end, we're instituting an automatic runoff round at the end of the quiz, i.e., we won't even read the scores of the top three teams, instead inviting them to each nominate one member to come up onstage for a runoff round: First to two correct answers wins. Will this thwart the perpetual domination of the Fantastic Fournicators? Let's see, shall we.

Now tonight's standings. The Fournicators, of course, did not win tonight—they were at half strength, after all, since half their team was off with DJ GB at the Pixies concert. Really? Kim Deal is more entertaining than Quizmaster Noah? Doubtful.

1. Cash Cab for Cutie
2. The Fantastic Two-nicators (as they called themselves)
3. Tattoos for the Elderly
4. Gerard Depardouche
5. Fat Kids Call the Butterball Hotline to Talk Dirty

And we're back on 12/7, then 12/21, then that's it for '09. We begin 2010 on January 4, with our return to (Le) Poisson Rouge. Stay classy.

The first NOT-SO-SECRET SECRET CLUE

All right, here it is, the very first Not-So-Secret Secret Clue, for tonight's quiz—your unfair advantage as thanks for reading this blog (or following us on Twitter or Facebook). At some point during this evening's game—7:30pm at Crash Mansion—I will tell you when to utilize it…

There's a good chance you've eaten it in the past few days.

That's it. Remember it, use it, cherish it. See you tonight.

Introducing…the Not-So-Secret Secret Clue

Yes, Ringo was the real star…

At this Monday's show, we're trying something new. Actually, we're trying it before the show. Starting this week, one question during the competition will be the subject of the Not-So-Secret Secret Clue: The day of the game, I will fire up the Commodore 64 and grace my followers with a "secret" clue (because really, how secret can it be?), a tidbit of info that, when utilized, will nearly guarantee a correct answer for one particular question. During the quiz, I will announce the NSSSC question and tell players it's time to make use of it.

Three places to find this vital information: Right here on the blog, on Facebook (become a fan), and on the Twitter feed (follow us). Fight for us, lie for us, walk the wire for us, die for us.

First clue is this Monday, the next quiz is Monday night. I am tingling with something, and I certainly hope it's excitement.

Death of a quizmaster

I was a little blindsided by the news, just the other day, that Ken Ober has died. Not that I particularly cared about the well-being of Ken Ober—I'm often perturbed about how much people mourn for celebrities with whom they have no personal connection. Rather, what blasted me with a tsunami of nostalgia was the simple memory of Ober's greatest claim to fame, the late-'80s MTV game show Remote Control. Watch below:



Wow. I hadn't seen any of that show in probably 20 years, but nearly every element of it is intensely familiar—that opening sequence occupied a lot of space in my junior-high mind, somewhere in between wondering what breasts felt like and fantasizing I was Batman. Truly, when it premiered in 1987, Remote Control was the clearest reflection of my personal sensibility that I had ever seen on television. It still might be (although for a period in the '90s David Letterman seemed to be running a pipeline from out of my cerebral cortex). I loved games, I loved TV, I loved hanging out in the basement with my idiot friends: I longed to blend all of pop culture into a colorful goulash, and then serve that goulash to a large and appreciative audience.

This seemed to be what Ken Ober was doing, and it looked like so much damn fun. And here I am today, trying to do just that each and every fortnight with The Big Quiz Thing. And, of course, as we advance the concept of an actual BQT TV show, Remote Control becomes a useful reference point: We find ourselves comparing our concept to Win Ben Stein's Money, Jeopardy!, even The Price Is Right. But watching this clip, I am kind of amazed how eerily close it looks to what I imagine the Big Quiz Thing will be on the air. Yes, our format is significantly different, and there will be no Ray-Bans and legwarmers, but the vibe is remarkably close, the offhand atmosphere really familiar. We're looking to create the new geek-friendly game-show party, and Remote Control was unquestionably a pioneer in that field.

So maybe it's very appropriate for me to have an emotional reaction to Ken Ober's death, if he was indeed the 1980s analogue to myself. (And yes, that would make EDP a nouveau Colin Quinn.) Quizmasters are mortal too.