When I was growing up, I wanted to do Letterman and I loved that live, in-studio model. I still would do something like that.

I think comedians should focus on what makes them happy, what art form fulfills them the most. Don't be calculated about it and say, 'Okay, I'm gonna tweet, and I'm gonna podcast, and I'm gonna do standup, and one of those things is going to lead me to my own TV show.' I don't think that should be the goal.

Your average comedian doesn't know the podcast universe, really.

I came to one of the first Comic Cons in 1985, when it was just people trading back issues of comic books.

Comedy was the key to everything. I grew up fast and controlled my future by bringing it on faster than it naturally unfolded. I cheated myself out of a childhood but then got a running headstart into adulthood that no one else could keep up with.

That's the great test: if you're going to be a great comic writer, not a humorist, you've got to take it into the throat of grief. Can you make laughter and seriousness so close that they are the same thing?

What makes art in general, and literature in particular, remarkable, what distinguishes them from life, is precisely that they abhor repetition. In everyday life, you can tell the same joke thrice and, thrice getting a laugh, become the life of the party. In art, though, this sort of conduct is called 'cliche.'

Sometimes I'll be sitting with my friends; I'll say something Koothrappali-esque and make a face. There is a lot of Koothrappali in me as a human being. A lot of mannerism, humor, mischievousness, my innocence. So I don't know if I bring him home so much as I bring myself to him at work.