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Jon Stewart and The Daily Show is to Comedy Central what Ted Koppel and Nightline is to ABC: the voice of reason in a world gone off its rocker. In Stewart's ever-growing corner of the cable universe, nothing—from the Terri Schiavo controversy to the war in Iraq—is sacred, which, thanks to his barbed-wire wit and benevolent brain, leaves 1.2 million viewers going to sleep feeling amused, challenged, understood, and a little less alone every Monday through Thursday night. As for those nights he's not on the air, I suggest you survive them by reading his very funny 2004 best-seller, America (The Book) —you'll laugh, you'll cringe.

I laugh the minute Jon Stewart opens the front door to his lower Manhattan townhouse (he assures me it's not normally filled with many bouquets of fresh flowers) and introduces me to his 9-month-old "man-wich," Nathan, who burrows into the crook of his arm, as his wife of five years, Tracey, comes to join us from the other room. It's a lazy Sunday morning, the perfect time to curl up on an overstuffed sofa and reflect on how Jonathan Stuart Leibowitz, the product of divorce, the class clown, the nice Jewish boy from Lawrence, New Jersey, went from kid with a college degree in psychology to brilliant stand-up comic to serious contender in the battle for talk-show-host supremacy. Contemplative, grounded, and awfully cute, Jon Stewart settles his son in for a nap and sits down for a chat.

Start reading Oprah's interview with Jon Stewart

Note: This interview appeared in the June 2005 issue of O, The Oprah Magazine.