Down-Wright quirky

Steven Wright is insane. Either that, or he's a post-apocalyptic android, beamed down to our society like Schwarzenegger in "Terminator 2," except with a softer physique, a haircut that unappealingly combines a mullet and an Afro, and a preternatural sense of humor that defies conventionality.

It's difficult to imagine that he's from the same world as the rest of the human race. Wright's keen insight on human behavior and language seem impossible for anyone within the species to attain. A friend once asked him if he has ever seen a UFO.

"Yeah, but not from the outside," Wright said Sunday night during his performance at the CFA.

Maybe that's the answer. Or maybe his insanity is deeply rooted in his past.

"Snakes have no arms. That's why they don't wear vests. My father told me that before I went to bed every night."

Apparently, he's been notably bizarre his entire life.

Wright says his teacher once asked him, "You're a strange boy, aren't you?"

"'No, I'm just somebody else's imaginary friend.' Then (the teacher) started crying."

The most probable answer to the enigma that is Steven Wright is that he's just found a form of comedy so atypical and so extraordinary that when he delivers his jokes in his characteristically slow, monotone voice, it's possible to believe that this guy is brilliant.

Wright nonchalantly walked across the CFA stage in front of a packed house of eager fans. He started pumping out one-liners with his poker-playing, narcoleptic eyes and received a flurry of laughter after each delivery. Sometimes he would talk about a certain subject or story for a few sentences. Other thoughts seemed to have absolutely no connection.

"When I was in the first grade my teacher told us the President was married to the First Lady. I was thinking, 'Wow, I wonder if she saw any dinosaurs.'" Steven then continued with a series of completely unrelated topics.

"Jesus pisses off a lot of people. (Doing an impression) 'Would you stop turning water into wine, I'm trying to take a shower here!'"

However, Wright was thrown off early on by an unyielding heckler: an infant screeched echoing cries throughout the theatre.

"You shouldn't have babies in the theatre. I mean you shouldn't have (motions toward hypothetical uterus) babies in here," Wright said to the embarrassed caretaker. "Make it go into the future so it can shut up," added Wright.

Wright's response was celebrated with roars of laughter and unanimous cheer. Before Wright emotionally disfigured the child, the mother quickly scurried to the exit doors with the infant.

"Ah, what an a**hole I am," he said, though he clearly didn't feel any remorse.

Once he got back on track, Wright showed versatility when he picked up a guitar to sing a song he wrote when he was three years old.

"This is a song I wrote when I was three. (Singing) Oh I think the kitten's going to kill me. I better try to kill him first. Where's the big scissors? Here kitty, here kitty, here kitty."

He titled another song: "They found her when the leaves blew away because I didn't want to rake until spring."

Wright's sadistic personality was clearly projected throughout the set, though he rarely used vulgarity, and he didn't mention sex at all. After picking up hitchhikers, Wright said he likes to delve into his devious intentions with them.

"So how far did you think you were going? Put your seatbelt on, I want to try something. I saw it on a cartoon once and I want to see if I can do it."

It's difficult to imagine Wright leading a normal life back at his home in Massachusetts. His personality seems blank, and his routine is sodden with metaphysical references on humanity that could only perceivably be acquired by someone totally outside society, like an anthropology major from a different solar system.

Wright deals with tiny fragments of human behavior in his postmodern form, focusing his material on string, or just playing with the wording of common phrases while avoiding topics like politics and sex. He's like the Sherlock Holmes of comedy - picking up the most infinitesimal, meaningless detail and fashioning a sidesplitting joke from it.

Others might attest Wright's eerily unique style to the myriad of psychological diseases that may possibly dwell within his subconscious. But every time Wright noticeably tried to hide his laughter from his own jokes, his personality and sanity shone through his demented exterior. Wright, however, claims that this is not the case.

"I'm insane. You think it's a show. They're just going to put me in the back of a truck and send me to another city."

Wright received a standing ovation as he left the stage. Wherever, "they" are taking the comic genius, it's certain that he'll be welcomed as one of the best and most original comics of his era.