This is hard to write.

For over 25 years, I’ve had a job that, on paper, sounds pretty simple: I amaze people and make them laugh.

It’s a weird, wonderful gig that’s led me to some incredible experiences and even better people. I’ve met some of my favorite collaborators by pure, random chance – oftentimes a booking at a nightclub or corporate convention, a bunch of us on the same bill on the same night, and none of us knew who the others were.

We’d hit it off, and before long, we’d be swapping opening slots, building friendships, bustin’ each others’ balls, and generally having a blast.

Showbiz is just like that sometimes.

We could disagree on just about everything; politics, religion, V-neck T-shirts, even whether pineapple belongs on the pizza we’re about to have delivered at 3 AM.

But none of that ever mattered.

We kept that noise backstage and our focus where it belonged: on giving the audience a damn good show. The professional relationships worked because the personal differences were a non-issue. We were all there for the same purpose, and that was that.

In the last five or so years, though, something has shifted, and not for the better.

I’ve seen far too many unvetted opening acts get on stage before me and launch into tasteless political rants. Stuff that might play well to their friends at their local circle-jerk open mic night – you know, the kind of crowd that cheers for dead baby jokes and thinks “incel” is a positive personality trait.

But when there are 20 Harleys parked outside a roadhouse and people paid good money to be entertained, not lectured, that garbage falls completely flat.

Yesterday, things got worse.

A lot worse.

When the world heard the news about the assassination of Charlie Kirk, it felt like a dangerously faulty and overloaded flash pot went off.

In the 24 hours that followed, a sickening number of fellow entertainers – people I genuinely respected and, frankly, liked – celebrated the murder of an innocent man.

It was an appalling display of hate-filled insanity that shed a light on who they truly are. It exposed a level of vile, disgusting ideology I am no longer willing to be in the same room with, let alone put on my posters or… [*shudders*]… pay.

I’ve spent the last day cutting more ties and burning more bridges than I ever thought I would. Or, more accurately, THEY burned the bridges.

It hurts.

But I can’t, in good conscience, work with people I now know to be capable of such monstrous thought. I don’t want to give them a paycheck, and I definitely don’t want you to spend your hard-earned money to listen to their crazy-ass bullshit, when you were expecting a light-hearted evening of laughter.

So, here’s my new policy. It’s simple, it’s firm, and there is zero room for interpretation:

I will not allow any opening acts on my shows that I have not personally vetted and enthusiastically endorse.

People buy tickets to my show to ESCAPE our day-to-day stress and nonsense, NOT to be hit with an unhinged political rant.

My stage is not their soapbox.

My shows are a politics-free zone for everyone, no matter what you believe. My only job is to give you a good time, not to make you angry. I’ve built my career on the reputation of good vibes and professional entertainment, and now I’m personally making – and pledging to keep – this promise.

The random, local opening acts are done. Gone. Poof. Puff of smoke and a trapdoor. I simply can’t trust a stranger – or even some of the people I’ve known forever – to NOT be a psychotic lunatic anymore.

Now, to be clear: this isn’t solely about art.

It’s about business.

I am a total supporter of the First Amendment and artistic expression. If you want to get on a stage and rant, be my guest – or, rather, be your own guest – at your own show.

But when I put another entertainer on MY show, that implies a level of endorsement. I’m telling my audience, “This person is worthy of your time and attention.” And I can’t do that if I don’t truly believe it myself.

Think of it like this:

You go to a restaurant and order a delicious entree, and they also bring you a free appetizer. That entree might be the amazing steak you were expecting, but if that free appetizer arrives with mold and cockroaches, the entire meal is ruined. The memory of the good food is tainted by the disgusting surprise.

Entertainment is no different.

If an opening act leaves a bad taste in the audience’s mouth – with an unhinged rant or a display of appalling behavior – their perception of the entire show is tainted, regardless of how good the headliner is.

They bought a ticket for a night of quality entertainment, not a ticket for SOME quality entertainment – oh, and also, plus a guy having a public meltdown. And if their perception of the OVERALL night is anything less than stellar, that’s MY reputation – my ass – my business – on the line.

I just can’t risk serving those “moldy appetizers” to my audiences anymore.

If that sounds harsh, good.

It’s meant to be.

This is about common decency and solid entertainment. From now on, I’m making damn sure that’s exactly what’s on my stage, for my audiences.

Love you all, and I’ll see you soon.

🤘

Nathan Tricky Allen
Comedian / Magician
Dubuque, Iowa, USA