The Leitrim Observer caught up with him earlier this month at the Sligo Comedy Festival, where Irish comedian David McSavage tore into today’s cultural minefield with his trademark irreverence—and a healthy side of profanity. In an interview that could’ve easily been mistaken for a stand-up routine, McSavage offered his unvarnished opinions on everything from cancel culture to the rise of AI, proving that in his world, if you can’t laugh at the absurdity, you might as well be dead already.
Never one to shy away from a mind-bending tangent, McSavage dives into the future. “If it keeps on going the way it's going, a thousand years from now, consciousness will be online. You live for eternity,” he muses.
He elaborates, “Like whoever you are, everything about you will be online. You’ll be digital and you’ll just be aware... you’ll be sitting there, whatever the fuck that means.”
“If you look at the Bible, they promise eternity for us after death. So it’s baked into us. That’s what we’re really striving for.” Whether it’s swapping into a giant’s body or opting for a sleek new form, McSavage paints a picture of a future where even sex could be simulated, yet still feel exactly the same.
When pressed about the rise of AI, he quips, “Maybe someday the computers will finally come into self-awareness and look at us as necessary to keep them going. We become secondary, and they’re the real overlords.” For him, the singularity isn’t just science fiction—it’s the next logical evolution.
“When people get offended, it’s like they’re revealing that they’re just not skilled enough to laugh at the absurdity of life. Laughter is a sign of mental well-being. Some people are collapsed bastards who just want to shut it all down," McSavage declares.
According to him, the problem isn’t comedy at all; it’s the digital echo chamber where a single offended tweet can morph into a digital guillotine.
“If you’re always worried about being canceled, it shows you’re not confident enough in your own material. It’s almost like the offended become the self-appointed gatekeepers of taste,” he explains.
For McSavage, the art of the joke is under constant threat—not because society is losing its sense of humor, but because every punchline is now a potential trigger. “Canceling a human being? That’s psychopathic,” he snaps. In his eyes, the real risk lies not in making a bad joke but in living in a culture where the slightest misstep is met with a digital guillotine.
“Fifteen years ago, getting offended wouldn’t have had a platform. Now, one person’s tweet can rope in allies from across the globe. You cancel a train journey, not a human being—unless they’ve done something horrifically criminal.”
“Fifteen years ago (with Savage Eye on RTE) someone getting offended wouldn’t have had a platform. Now, one person can broadcast their outrage to the whole world—and rope in allies from across the globe,” he explains.
Beneath the rapid-fire delivery and edgy one-liners lies a philosopher mind that’s constantly mulling over the big questions. When pressed about whether his deep thoughts interfere with his stage persona, McSavage fires back, “I find it hard to keep it superficial. The national conversation is shallow because nobody wants to get too intimate with the truth. I see things other people don't see.”
Despite the occasional unsold venue (a gig in Liverpool, for instance, “isn’t selling well”), McSavage remains undeterred by the challenges of the modern comedy circuit. He notes that in today’s hyper-connected world, every local joke has the potential to spark international controversy.
Whether riffing on the latest celebrity controversies—taking the piss out of figures like Trump or Meghan Markle—or speculating about a future where virtual reality becomes our primary playground, McSavage refuses to let fear or political correctness dull his edge. His conclusion is as simple as it is provocative: “If you’re offended, you’re just not laughing hard enough.”
