The Hornet That Stings
Two recent Netflix specials are, as usual, causing some stirring and hair pulling in certain areas of cultural outrage—Ricky Gervais’s Armageddon and Dave Chapelle’s The Dreamer. Both are hysterical and both take aim at the people most likely to lose their minds over jokes at their expense. And, yes, they both have extended jokes about the trans cohort, the crippled, and definitely go all in in punching down, the phrase used to shame comics who take aim at people who have fully embraced the roll of the oppressed in the postmodernist oppressed/oppressor model of society. Chapelle even gleefully tells the audience that he likes punching down.
No doubt, despite and perhaps due to the outrage, both specials will be watched and enjoyed by millions (much to chagrin of the tone police of the cultural elite). Why would these men continue to goad those who have demanded that they stop? Why hammer home the giggly fun of mocking those so terribly offended?
There are two purposes of comedy: to make us laugh at ourselves or to make us laugh at others. The only metric that matters is that whichever the target, it makes people laugh. Funny enough, what makes one person laugh may fall dead like a stank fish carcass for the next. Attendance and consumption is voluntary, however, which is why I’ll not be watching anything Hannah Gadsby puts out but will watch Bill Burr talk about anything.
"The biggest favor we do for people is to release them. Society, culture, puts them in jail—and we let them out. The rule-makers, whoever they are, decided a box you're going to live in. We need to be reminded that you can step out of the box—and you can go right back in again if you want, too." — Billy Connolly ("Satiristas: Comedians, Contrarians, Raconteurs & Vulgarians" by Paul Provenza)
In the case of some comics, the job is absolutely to offend. The very nature required to get up on a stage and try to crack up a room of strangers is laced with the need to break the rules. Tell a comic not to joke about a subject enough times and it’s like telling a kid to never, EVER, press the red button. He’s gonna press it just to see what happens. Comedy is experimentation and refinement, seeking the perfect phrasing and body language to receive the hoped for response.
For every joke about a MAGA guy fucking his daughter cuz, you know, they’re all inbred, there’s an actual MAGA guy whose house is in foreclosure, his truck is up on blocks, his government disability check has run dry, and his only solace in a world that has left him behind is fucking his daughter. That joke probably hurt his feelings, yes? It offended him. Even more hurt by the joke is his daughter.
A comedian does a joke about the homeless on his Netflix special which, by all accounts from a specific type of activist, is incredibly offensive to someone who sleeps on the ground with a filthy blanket, shambling from street corner to street corner looking for a meal out of a garbage dumpster. Sure, he has it tough but he won’t hear the joke because he doesn’t have a Netflix account.
“I started doing comedy in Washington, D.C., and as you know, D.C. has a little crime problem. It’s the murder capitol. Matter of fact, D.C. is so bad that a friend of mine who’s a police officer told me to buy a gun. Even told me what type of gun I should buy. Told me to buy a Walther PPK. This gun costs $400. $400! Now, if I spend $400 for a gun, I’m shooting somebody. Flesh wound, pinky finger, somebody’s getting shot. I refuse to let a $400 gun go to waste. ‘Avon Lady!’ Ding-dong, BOOM!” — Wanda Sykes
Wow. Tell that joke in front of a mother who lost her son to a mass shooting and I’m betting some offense will be taken.
"Racism isn't born, folks, it's taught. I have a two-year-old son. You know what he hates? Naps. End of list." - Denis Leary
Oof. That’s really offensive to someone who believes that racism is threaded through the fabric of every white person. Very triggering.
Here’s the thing—there are so many comics desperate for the crack cocaine that is your laughter that it’s like dating women with a slight tendency toward mental instability. They’re everywhere. If one doesn’t appeal or offends, go find another one because the supply is inexhaustible.
Me? I love the hornet that stings, the stand up who points out the hypocrisies of both myself and others. I used to have a theater and above the door was a sign. “Nothing is Sacred. Not Even You.” It is a mantra for everything I see as being truly artistic and worthy of my attention. Anything less than a punch in nuts is for children (except, of course, fairy tales from the Old Country designed to scare the shit out of the little feral monkeys).
