IF I DON'T COUGH, I'M NOT SICK . . .

It's all about denial. And it's all about Comtrex, which, I have discovered, is particularly handy when I want to stay awake and alert for Margaret Cho on her Assassin, a/k/a State of Emergency tour, stopping tonight at the Beacon Theater in NYC.

Dang, I just appreciate her a whole lot.

I like that she's smart -- she doesn't just rant and rail in a burst of hot air. No, she edjumacates herself and does her homework makes sure that she knows what she's talking about. And she's consistent. When she puts herself forth as a proponent of gay rights or women's rights, she doesn't equivocate, or stand up for the pretty, palatable issues. She puts her whole self behind the causes she believes in, and fights for them with all she's got. Agree or disagree, I have no choice but to respect that. And she's proud. As a fellow Korean-American woman, I can say that that's a hard thing to be in this country: proud of who you are, of what you are, of how you are. She is all of those things; not without struggle, I'm sure, but she is still proud. And she's witty. She puts out turns of phrases that cut to the quick, and immediately tempers it by showing her softer side, then turns on herself with a healthy dose of self-deprecation, then invites the audience to laugh at themselves with her. She is merciful to no one, but neither is she senselessly cruel. And she's talented. She can be Bjork, her immigrant mother, a gay black man, a lipstick lesbian, a Hollywood starlet, and a clueless straight white man. She shamelessly contorts herself, and knows her audience better than it knows itself. And she's pushy. She makes me laugh hysterically until I'm wiping the smeared mascara from underneath my eyes, but then she makes me think. She makes me think about gay marriage, about women's health, about politics, about my identity as a woman, a Christian, an Asian-American, a human being. She makes me think about how I treat people. She makes me appreciate my family. She makes me think about the things that I do -- or more embarrassingly, don't -- stand up for.

She's got just a few shows left; if you can, see her. Have a good laugh. Blush at her liberal use of naughty words. Squirm at how she pins you down and makes you question yourself. Weep at her rendition of Bjork-gone-wild.

Enjoy.