Either Everything Is Funny or Nothing Is South Park
"The Thing You Think Is Funny Isn't Actually Funny"
Coming to terms with laughing at something that may have hurt someone else.
"You have a responsibility to speak recklessly." — Dave Chappelle
I was recently informed that something I posted on social media that I thought was funny was, in reality, not funny at all.
This perplexed me 'cause, as I said, I thought it was pretty funny.
I've always been a fan of South Park's approach to comedy, where everything must be funny or nothing gets to be.
"You can't make a distinction between what is ok to poke fun at and what isn't. Either it is all ok, or none of it is." — Kyle Broflovski on what he learned today
I'm aware that this isn't universally applicable. There is a time and a place to make jokes, there are jokes that simply shouldn't be made, and not everybody handles humor the same way. There are people who literally suffer from a fear of being laughed it. It's called gelotophobia and it sounds terrifying.
In a 2014 study, a team of social psychologists found that it takes roughly 36 days for a joke about a tragedy to become funny. This is a much shorter estimate than South Park's, which stated that a waiting period of 22.3 years should be observed before a tragic event can be joked about.
Professor Peter McGraw, who headed the study, noted an interesting caveat when it came to social media. As he put it,
"Comedy is a space that has its own set of rules. Then it gets posted on the internet and broadcast to people sitting at their desks — people who weren't intended to hear it and aren't in the mindset to appreciate it."
I've always considered myself to be a funny person. When I make a joke, people usually laugh. That said, as a self-professed extroverted introvert riddled with anxiety, I make a lot of jokes. You know, to quiet the voices in my head. So my hit-to-miss ratio could have more to do with the law of averages than anything else. But I generally know not to make light of a tragedy. That's just common sense.
Still, I have angered people with things I've said. I've offended coworkers, I've lost friends, and I've seriously hurt people I never meant to hurt. None of it was intentional, but that doesn't change the fact that it happened. Yes I've learned as I've aged, but I've also found myself worrying less about who an offhand joke might offend. I was always so timid growing up that learning to be comfortable with myself and my own loud, boisterous nature has led me to become happier, calmer, and generally more successful.
Can I really blame people for being hurt by something I said? Absolutely not. But can I be blamed directly for hurting them, even though it wasn't my intention?
That's probably not for me to decide. Some will undoubtedly say yes, and it's nearly impossible for me to argue the merits of free speech when it comes to a joke that not only did nothing positive for the world at large, but actually negatively affected at least one other person, therefore negatively impacting me as well.
Yet I keep making loud, stupid jokes. On social media, in my writing, with my family, on the bus. Because I'm addicted to it. Because the feeling of a joke landing, the sensation when you know you've made someone look at something in a way they'd never even considered looking at it before, there's nothing like it.
Knowing you've made someone's day a little brighter, or barring that, at least a little bit more interesting, has to be worth the occasional misfire.
It always has been for me, anyway.
Source: https://medium.com/an-idea/the-thing-you-think-is-funny-isnt-actually-funny-86e62b27ec8c
0 Response to "Either Everything Is Funny or Nothing Is South Park"
Post a Comment