(Note: I know the
dichotomy is not as simple as that, but for the moment let’s say it is, or I shall
be unable to proceed. *)
(* I would really like to proceed.)
Point of Departure:
A successful joke requires extreme specificity. That specificity, however, has been known to
create certain tangible difficulties. And
subsequent consequences.
Comedian Jerry Seinfeld, for example, recently decided to
curtail further performances at colleges because a joke he made at a recent
college concert about how the hand gestures required to manipulate a smartphone
make iPhone users look like “gay
French kings” generated negative reaction for its perceived insensitivity
towards gays – an objection that could be made equally by the citizens of
France, or more particularly, heterosexual French monarchs, while rekindling
retroactive feminist remonstration that there were no ruling French queens.
The preceding is the encapsulated version of this post.
Now, for your blog-reading entertainment, the more extended
version.
EXAMPLE JOKE:
(One of virtually thousands of jokes that might just as easily have been
selected. Or, thinking it over, any joke
that was ever concocted, as it is arguable that all jokes offend somebody. Feel free to submit one that doesn’t. But it better be funny.)
Now where was I?
Oh, yeah…
EXAMPLE JOKE:
“An Irishman walks
into a bar carrying a pig under his arm.
The bartender says, ‘We do not allow “his kind” in here.’ The Irishman explains, ‘It’s only a pig.’ To which the bartender shoots back, ‘I was
talking to the pig.’”
DECONSTRUCTING THE EXAMPLE JOKE ONE SEGMENT AT A TIME:
“An Irishman walks
into a bar…”
IRISH LISTENER: “There you go again. Insultin’ the Irish.”
ALCOHOLIC LISTENER:
“Why did you have to remind me that I can’t drink?”
WHEELCHAIR-BOUND LISTENER: “Or remind me that I can’t walk.”
AGORAPHOBIC LISTENER: "Oh, like there's nothing to it, walking into a bar."
AGORAPHOBIC LISTENER: "Oh, like there's nothing to it, walking into a bar."
FEMINIST LISTENER:
“Why does it always have to be a man?”
THE JOKE TELLER BEGINS AGAIN.
“A member of an
historically maligned minority makes his or her…
TRANSGENDER LISTERER: “Excuse me…”
“… or perhaps one and
later the other…”
TRANSGENDER LISTENER:
“Thank you.”
“…. way into a place
of business that may or may not involve alcohol.”
JOKE TELLER: “Am
I okay so far?”
ALL LISTENERS
(TOGETHER): “Go on…”
JOKE TELLER: “Thank
you.”
“…carrying a pig under
his arm.”
PIG LISTENER:
“What are you implying by that?
That we’re dirty? Or
slovenly? Or we’re fat?
OVERWEIGHT LISTENER (TO PIG LISTENER): “We don’t care for the word ‘fat.’”
PIG LISTENER:
“Keep your eye on the ball, okay, ‘Slim’?”
OVERWEIGHT LISTENER:
“‘Slim!’”
SIGHTLESS LISTENER:
“You know there are some of us who can’t keep our eye on the ball.”
PIG LISTENER:
“Ganging up on a pig. What is this,
a Jewish conspiracy?”
JEWISH LISTENER:
“And what exactly is that
supposed to mean?”
PIG LISTENER:
“Hey, if the yarmulke fits…”
JOKE TELLER:
“Excuse me. Can we go back to the
joke, please?”
ALL LISTENERS (FINALLY, BUT ANNOYEDLY): “Fine.”
“A member of an
historically maligned minority makes his or her – or perhaps one and later the
other – way into a place of business that may or may not involve alcohol
carrying some animal that is not normally found in such places of business…”
PIG LISTENER:
“Better.”
“… under his arm.”
LISTENER WHO IS MISSING AN ARM: “I am a little sensitive about the… Nah.
Go ahead.”
JOKE TELLER: “I
appreciate the leeway.”
“The bartender… I
mean, the proprietor of that particular place of business says, ‘We do not
allow “his kind” in here.’”
JOKE TELLER:
“Am I in trouble saying ‘his kind’?”
RANDOM LISTENER:
“It’s borderline, but we’ll let it pass.”
JOKE TELLER:
“Thank y…”
RANDOM LISTENER:
“But we’re watching you.”
A WEARY SIGH FROM THE JOKE TELLER.
JOKE TELLER:
“Where were we again? Oh yeah.”
“A member of an
historically maligned minority makes his or her – or perhaps one and later the
other – way into a place of business that may or may not involve alcohol
carrying an animal that is not normally seen in such places of business under
his arm. The proprietor of that particular place of business says, ‘We do not
allow “his kind” in here.’ To which the
member of the historically maligned minority explains, ‘It is only some animal
that is not normally seen in such places of business.’ To which the proprietor of that particular
place of business shoots back, ‘I was talking to the animal that is not
normally seen in such places of business.’”
DEAD SILENCE.
(Meaning no disrespect to the departed.)
FINALLY…
RANDOM LISTENER:
“I don’t get it.”
ANOTHER RANDOM LISTENER: “Is that supposed to be funny?”
THE JOKE TELLER HEAVES AN EVEN HEAVIER SIGH THAN BEFORE.
JOKE TELLER:
“I should have listened to my mother and become a chartered accountant.”
CHARTERED ACCOUNTANT LISTENER: “What’s wrong with being a chartered
accountant?”
JOKE TELLER: (BUCKLING
NOTICEABLY UNDER THE BOMBARDMENT) “Okay,
Mom. Take your best shot.”
JOKE TELLER’S MOTHER:
“What are you talking about? When
you’re right, you’re right.”
THE JOKE TELLER FINALLY GIVES UP.
JOKE TELLER’S FATHER:
“Excuse me. Why is it always ‘the
mother’?”
No comments:
Post a Comment