Come on dawg, you're funny. People like you. You're handsome; you've been lifting weights. You're stronger now. Sure you got flambéed, torched even, but look at you. At least everyone knows who you are now, thanks to Jamie Foxx.

Sincerely,

Comedian Doug Williams' conscience

There are career missteps, and then there are career kabooms. And when Doug Williams decided to put Jamie Foxx inside the scope of his comedic crosshairs at Emmitt Smith's 2003 roast, he got his ass roasted. Because we are in the digital age now, nothing is forgotten, and nothing goes unaccounted for.

There were two things wrong when Williams went to the podium that night: The first was that his opening jokes weren't funny; they were scathing and hurtful. He poked fun at Dallas Cowboys legend Michael Irvin's cocaine problems and basically called Shaq, all 10 feet of him, a punk for not pushing through a toe injury.

The second was that he decided to take his non-funnies over to Jamie Foxx who was mic'd up and had been killing the whole night. Not only did Foxx put in work, but the work that he put in was the comedic equivalent of getting beat up and then beat down. In the process, Foxx introduced a new saying into the American lexicon to use whenever someone is going downhill fast with no brakes: "I'm your conscience." Underground hip-hop iconoclasts Little Brother included a parody of the whole tragic mess on their CD, Getback.

That is the moment when Williams' career should have flat lined, when the comedic spirit separates from the serious self and goes floating off into the ether of joblessness. In all truthfulness, Doug Williams should be changing oil at Jiffy Lube or hauling boxes at UPS because it was that bad.

But guess what? Five years later, his comedy career is still alive—vaguely—now that he's on Starz, the bootleg side network to cable heavyweights HBO and Showtime, hosting the third season (that's right there were two seasons before this one) of, Martin Lawrence Presents 1st Amendment Stand-up which premieres on July 9.

The show, which is executive produced by Martin Lawrence, is your basic 30-minute comedy showcase and claims to have some of the edgiest up-and-coming talent, even though the line-up reads like a long list of "once was." Remember Joe Torry, Bruce Bruce, Rickey Smiley, Don "D.C." Curry? Well, they are all here using the same Def Comedy Jam format even down to the old school DJ. (Biz Markie is their version of Kid Capri.)

The whole concept, the jokes, the feel and the people are just old. In the first episode, Don "D.C." Curry walks on stage and opens with, "I know I look older, I am older…I don't look the same, and I don't feel the same either."

Black comedy has a long tradition in American history as being both self-deprecating at its worst and an amplified poignant criticism on the gambit of social ills at its best. Remove the comedic element from any of the top black comics' "jokes" and what you have left is insightful criticism on injustice.

Maybe that is part of the problem. Maybe it is unfair to want Doug Williams, or any black comedian, to carry the weight of the race into their humor. Sometimes jokes can just be jokes, just thoughtless, non-witty, non-sensical banter.

And maybe that is what happened to Doug Williams that night and culturally that is what he represents: a paid funny man who wasn't funny, who had a bad day, who walked blindly into the line of fire and got lit up, straight smoked. And when all the dust settled, he was still standing, still telling jokes, and if nothing else, resilient.

Maybe the story of Doug Williams and all of these old comics whose glory days and funny jokes are well behind them is one of perseverance. Truthfully, what happens to a comedian who can't get laughs? Maybe Starz is the comedic pasture that allows them to graze along the edges of fame just far enough not to disturb anyone.

There was a comedian once who started his set explaining to the crowd how comedy doesn't come with a 401k plan or dental insurance. And for those folks, the ones that have outgrown their hey-day, the ones that will be on this third season of Martin Lawrence Presents 1st Amendment Stand-up, I wish they would listen to their inner Jamie Foxx conscience, the one that whispers soft and light, "maybe I should just say something nice….and wrap it up."

Stephen A. Crockett Jr. is a Washington writer.