by Ray Karaczun
Part Two
Have you ever stared blankly at abstract art in a pretentious museum? Or disliked your English class’s required reading because it was beyond your comprehension? Unlike other art forms, the ability to perceive and react to humor comes naturally to us. Even though not all of us have a knack for being funny, and most of us have never studied the structure of a joke (I have), we all do have a sense of humor, and can instinctually tell what is and is not funny. Unlike other art forms, with humor the audience cannot lie to the artist. Film critics can write dishonest reviews, and music-lovers can claim to have a certain opinion on a song; but if a comedian’s joke does not hit, the audience will either sit in silence or force an unbelievable laugh. As Casually Explained, a comedy YouTube channel with over 3.5 million subscribers puts it, “if you’re not good, no one laughs... it’s not the world that doesn’t get it, it’s you.”
There are many mistakes that can make a joke unfunny, such as using boring language, failing to flow or make sense, or delivering in an unconfident manner; but the mistake most related to the sub-genre of offensive humor is the audience not feeling safe. Tying back to last week's discussion on incongruity theory and benign violation theory, we can only laugh at what’s morally wrong when we are sure that it is safe. There is nothing funny about real prejudice, and so we only feel comfortable enough to laugh when we are sure that the joke was just a joke. To quote Casually Explained again, “... no subject is off limits as long as your joke is funnier than it is offensive... you can’t laugh and be offended at the same time.”
One way we can easily tell the difference between a joke and hate speech is observing who is telling the joke. If a person is making fun of their own identity or a community they belong to, we can confidently assume that they were just joking. With the exception of mental health humor, people tend to not degrade and insult themselves, especially not in front of an audience. Not to mention, no one understands which lines to not cross better than the person who belongs to the group that the joke refers to. This is not to say that people are not allowed to make jokes about other people, but that it is important to understand the speaker’s true motive, and the relationship between their identity and their target’s identity may be a clue.
Failing to make the audience feel safe is precisely what led to controversy over Dave Chapelle’s latest special The Closer. Even before it starts, the synopsis reads that he will “get a few things off his chest,” an introduction that prepares you for a rant rather than a standup routine. The cis, straight man spent about 45 minutes of his hour-long standup routine “making jokes” about women and the LGBTQ community, meaning he spent much more time making fun of things he cannot relate to than things he can relate to. Since he has no place to reclaim slurs against these groups, his explicit use of them came off as true ill-intent. He repeatedly used the word “transgender” as a noun when it is an adjective; if he cannot comprehend which part of speech it is, how can he understand or support the community? For no clear reason, he tried to compare the social progress and oppression of the LGBTQ community with the black community in– I cannot emphasize enough– a comedy special, and the unfunny analogies only needlessly pitted two minority groups against each other. He also tried comparing the existence of transgender people to the dark history of black face because they are both “impersonating”, which again illustrates a shallow understanding of what transgender people experience and just isn’t funny.
After labeling himself as a trans-exclusive radical feminist, and defending J.K. Rowling’s prejudice, Dave attempted to close his transphobic special with a tribute to his late transgender friend Daphne, whom Dave bounced back and forth between misgendering and accurately gendering. He was clearly not as close to her as he pretended to be, being that he openly admitted that he had no idea that she had a child until he read her obituary. Like a white person declaring “I can’t be racist, I have a black friend” after making a blatantly racist statement, Dave argues that she would approve of his transphobic jokes: “As hard as it is to hear a joke like that, Daphne would have loved it. That’s why she was my friend.”
In case there were any doubts left in the audience’s minds after a lengthy, fiery rant thinly veiled as a comedy special, Dave explicitly spelt out that the only transgender person he half-respects is the one who does not hold him accountable for his bigotry. There is no shaking it: this was hate speech with a howling audience.
When used correctly, offensive humor has healthy and productive purposes, which will be elaborated on in the next few posts. However, the problem occurs when people un-ironically endorse the stereotypes and antisocial behavior that comedy jabs at, and they hide behind the phrase, “it was just a joke” to avoid taking accountability for their genuine hate speech.
Here’s some rules of thumb:
If comedians are poking fun at groups, they should be poking fun at several groups, including their own. Otherwise, their stand up comes off as a targeted attack. To quote David Segal, “... epithets get at least part of their sting by being placed off-limits. By spreading the abuse about, you take the sting out of it.” It’s only fun when everyone gets a turn.
It’s easy to be mean when you cannot see the damage you are dealing (which is why cyberbullying is so prominent). When you make a joke about a group, put a face to it. I obviously love offensive humor, and I have the type of bond with my close friends and family where we can tease each other. The reason why we can do so is because our desire to respect each other dominates our desire to insult each other. I’ll gladly make fun of my friends over a mildly embarrassing moment, but I know better than to ridicule them for their insecurities, trauma, and private identities they themselves do not speak of. Because of that, I could never look my LGBTQ friends in the eye and recite any jokes from The Closer.
Comedians are performance artists. This art form requires taking feedback from others. If the masses are insisting that your joke isn’t funny, they aren’t all failing to understand what you are saying. Nor is it likely that you are the only person at stand up with a sense of humor, and the other 99% of people there are unfunny, uncompromising, and overly sensitive. They do not all need to grow thicker skin to accommodate you. Because it’s not the world that doesn’t get it, it’s you.
Sources
Casually Explained. (2018, September 25). Getting a laugh: how to make something funny [video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGj15uvuPLA
Chapelle, D. (2021). The closer. https://www.netflix.com/watch/81228510?trackId=13752289&tctx=0%2C0%2C819d630ce0441b9cfe51a102073da1a4f7c63b94%3A2e096a75b0310712ecd849d0a879a22e0aa97dc4%2C819d630ce0441b9cfe51a102073da1a4f7c63b94%3A2e096a75b0310712ecd849d0a879a22e0aa97dc4%2Cunknown%2C
Segal, D. (1992). Excuuuse me: the case for offensive humor. The New Republic, 206(19), 9. https://eds.s.ebscohost.com/eds/detail/detail?vid=2&sid=e7dd462a-cf6a-40f6-87d2-43e093630499%40redis&bdata=JkF1dGhUeXBlPXNzbyZzaXRlPWVkcy1saXZlJnNjb3BlPXNpdGU%3d#AN=edsgcl.12226695&db=edsgis
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