“To step into our political power is essential,” she continues. “We may be liberal in our politics, but we’re very conservative in dealing with ourselves. This internal struggle is something that affects everyone – not only minorities, but it holds minorities back.” Pretty heady stuff coming from a comedian.

After developing a loyal following with her last stand-up tour-turned-documentary, “I’m the One That I Want,” two years ago, Margaret Cho has returned with another film – one that is actually funnier than her first, even if the language and humor is particularly raw for some audiences.

“That’s what I’m like. That’s what I think about. It’s what I find funny,” she says, defending her crudeness. And when she cites Richard Pryor and Sandra Bernhard as her influences, it comes as no surprise.

“My storytelling is a kind of myth-making and myth-breaking,” Cho says during a phone interview. “It’s mostly fables, but it is very political and motivational in its own way. To me, (stand-up) is the best thing I can do. With the energy of the audience and the physicality of the show, it (becomes) a very magical experience. I feel like this is what I was born to do.”

The 33-year-old Korean-American performer bases her shows entirely on her own life, relationships, and experiences. Her stories, which range from poignant to vulgar, explore her evolving relationship with her mother – whom Cho is famous for imitating – to sexual experimentation and her struggles with anorexia and bulimia. She also disses and discusses gay men, straight men, drag queens and one of her boyfriends, whose failure to return an adult movie got her into hilarious trouble at the video store.

“I’ve done all the things in my life because I’ve wanted to at that moment – not for the benefit of telling others. It was a kind of discovery,” she explains about her more unusual experiences, such as participating in a sex club, getting a colonic and having an occasional lesbian partner.

“I feel very strongly about being very honest in my work, since I exaggerate very little,” she says. However, Cho is careful not to talk about what she calls “the true intimacies in my relationships – that is private,” adding that the topic is not as interesting as what is in her show.

As for the creation of her one-woman act, Cho acknowledges that “very little of my show is improvised. It is all well-rehearsed in front of an audience and planned out beforehand. Everything is (performed) in the order it’s written.” During her act, Cho often pauses dramatically, especially when she is mimicking voices of various “characters.” Her expressions – of disgust or despair – are often priceless.

“My timing comes from doing college tours when I was inexperienced and I had to fill an hour-long show with 15 minutes of material. I learned to make every moment count,” she says. However, Cho claims that she does not practice her work in the mirror or study her expressions. “I don’t know what I look like until I see the film.” Even Cho’s decision about what to wear is pretty haphazard. “I choose what is clean, available and not wrinkled,” she says – and she isn’t joking.

Ultimately, the comedian sees her work as being a way to define herself and allow the audience to identify with her. “I realized that I had the ability to combine my need to be funny with my desire to help people. And by that, also help myself. I think it was just discovering the ability to combine the two that made me the artist I am now.”