BY SASHA

When Margaret Cho toured and subsequently filmed her brilliant breakout performance in the late '90s, I'm the One That I Want, she single-handedly created one of the most perfect pieces of comedy of the last two decades. I'm the One That I Want stands teetering on the fence between swan song (her scathing naming-names exposé of the Hollywood that tried to change her, then rejected their own reinvention) and launching pad (her rise to notoriety as one of the most vocal Left-leaning comedians in the United States). The film is a remarkable, exhilarating thing to watch: a woman whose confidence was wrenched away from her by the biggest ego-making and crushing machine on the planet not only publicly reclaims that lost sense of self, but does so with brimming resolve and on her own terms. Anyone who's ever felt marginalized, overlooked and under-appreciated will find both an inspiring leader and kindred spirit in Margaret Cho, and they obviously do. Cho's shows, and her exchanges with her fans, have an almost evangelical quality.

Her secret to climbing out of the shit? "I know how to have a lot of fun, and that is such a valuable tool. I rely on that to allow myself to do anything."

Cho is very self-possessed during a phone interview from her current tour, Assassin, a condition she fortunately does not credit to kabbalah. "Oh god, no," she says, when asked if she'd leapt on that bandwagon. (Well, fuck, it's fair to ask. After all, they snagged the genius bitch Roseanne Barr.) "I bought a sewing machine and I'm sewing and ironing. I'm so bad at it but I like making things with my hands. I'm also a belly dancer. I work at a Middle Eastern restaurant. I don't have that much time and I'm not very good, but I think it's OK to let yourself do things that you're not really good at."

Cho says she's grown more personally introspective over the years, something that's had a softening effect on her. Generally speaking, talking to liberal Americans these days feels a bit otherworldly, as though you're conversing with someone in the fifth and final acceptance stage of death as outlined by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, and Cho is no exception. There is this balmy mien about them, as if Bush's re-election was, along with being an unqualified disaster, a great lesson. The knowledge that, despite all their best efforts to turn the tide, their country generally approves of a malapropping warmonger seems to have forced them to a higher spiritual plain.

"I'm very different than I used to be. I'm very calm and quiet and shy," Cho says. She's also, thankfully, a bit dull; nothing is more bewildering than interviewing sociopathic performers and having to pretend everything's so spontaneous and killingly funny when they do their bits. Cho's working no bits, and she's obviously quite exhausted. It's no wonder. She is truly on a whirlwind tour -- Assassin dates take her all the way to Australia -- with little respite since she modified the show from one called State of Emergency, which she was touring around the time of the 2004 American election. Cho calls Bush's reelection "so embarrassing."

"It so goes against what I believe in and what I feel is right and what I feel is essential to our survival," she says. "It's like the fall of Rome, in that this very corrupt society is collapsing in on itself. And it's only visible to the people who are really suffering because of it -- the American public and everybody in this world. We touch so many nations. The whole world is affected. It's really sinister."

The content of Cho's work, which always deals with racism, politics, body issues, queer rights, family and what she calls her "excessive taste and foolish nature" has a naturally polarizing effect, especially, it seems, in the States, a very polarized country. Sometimes this makes her hard to watch. She is both brave and extremely reliant on the approval of her audience, both risky and pandering. After I'm the One That I Want, I was personally disappointed in her subsequent concert films, Notorious C.H.O. and Cho Revolution, though they both received glowing reviews. It felt like too much of the same material, churned out on the heels of a succès fou. It is difficult to find any liberal critics of Cho's work, as though they feel it is unwise, with a frighteningly conservative agenda all around, to scrutinize anyone who is courageous enough to step forward and voice dissent.

When asked how she feels about the unreserved affection her fans shower on her, Cho says, "I don't really think about it very much. To me, it's a little strange, but then I do the same thing when I'm a fan of an artist. I can't deal, like I went to see Björk and I totally freaked out. I couldn't accept that she was right there and I was crying and screaming. I met David Bowie and we had to keep taking pictures together over and over because I wouldn't stop crying. He was like, 'Please don't cry in this picture. Look like you're having a good time with me and look happy for just one second.' I just couldn't deal, because I love this person... their work means so much to me that I'm not going to be cool at all. So I appreciate people who are very demonstrative of their admiration."

Predictably, her greatest detractors come from the right (and unfortunately these exchanges are never included in Cho's DVD extras, because I would love to see how she handles them). "There's always situations where I'm not in front of an audience that's appreciative," says Cho. "I don't seek them out but they happen. Last year I got kicked off of a stage for a conservative group, a hotel chain. They unplugged my microphone and kicked me off the stage and then this band ran onstage and started singing 'Sweet Home Alabama' to America-fy the audience, but I was so insulted because I'm such a Skynyrd fan. You know, just because I have these progressive beliefs doesn't mean I can't appreciate Southern rock. It was very scary but those things happen pretty often."

One thing is certain: even if Cho is not always on the absolute vanguard of social, sexual and political commentary, she is necessary. Cho is an ally, and we don't fuck with our allies. We stand by them as they go forth and put their asses on the line in these times.

Still, she's called her latest show Assassin. Here's hoping she really slays us.