It was about offensive jokes, and how far people go to get a laugh. This is always been a bit of a polarising issue. You've got team "nothing is 'too risqué' when it comes to comedy", then there's team "too far". But I was thinking, we can hardly take the moral high ground when we obviously enjoy a below-the-belt joke or two. I mean, someone must be laughing, otherwise comedians wouldn't bother. Life's full of shenanigans that are more that suitable to crack a joke about, so what it is about the dodgy territory that really gets us?
Here's my theory: it's the age old "I was just saying what you were all thinking" dynamic. When it comes to punchlines that makes us cringe, I reckon we laugh out of nervousness, in a "did I just hear that right? way, a little bit shock and because most of the time, they shed a little light on topics that we wouldn't have the guts to joke about. The one thing that pisses me off though, is when people are just offensive for the sake of it. Those kinda people are like Jedward; unnecessary and the opposite of amusing. I personally think comedy has to be clever for it to work. People say sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, but have they forgotten about 'your mum' jokes? So simple. So unfunny.
Well anyway, my point, in a roundabout way, is that in the big pie chart of life, the proportion of serious to satire is way off. We need people to spin a little light-heartedness on things. Besides, maybe people will stop being offensive when we stop laughing at it?
Did you know as well, laughing for 15 seconds adds 2 days to your life span? Can't argue with that.
Friday, 23 April 2010
Thursday, 25 March 2010
Dragons denning this shit.
My Mum had one of those moments earlier, like all Mums do where they just get things completely wrong. But Mama C's little senior-citizen glitch actually turned out to be a massive stroke of genius. My Brother was on about buying a morph suit (you know, those creepy lycra suits that cover your whole body? kinda like if the blue man group decided to partake in a cheeky bit of bank robbery), but she thought he was talking about buying a suit made out of the inflatable stuff you use in zorbing.
which made me think, the sooner zorb suits are invented, the sooner my life will become exponentially better.
gone are the days of waiting approximately 3 days for a rickety bus, which smells strangely like burger king and that stale smell which lingers after a house party, where 9 year olds play shit music at the back of and crazy people seek you out like some kind of missile, despite the fact there are hundreds (ok, 5's and 5's) of other seats.
you could just whack on your zorb suit and roll.
amazing.
duncan bannatyne is going to love it.
which made me think, the sooner zorb suits are invented, the sooner my life will become exponentially better.
gone are the days of waiting approximately 3 days for a rickety bus, which smells strangely like burger king and that stale smell which lingers after a house party, where 9 year olds play shit music at the back of and crazy people seek you out like some kind of missile, despite the fact there are hundreds (ok, 5's and 5's) of other seats.
you could just whack on your zorb suit and roll.
amazing.
duncan bannatyne is going to love it.
Losing the blog-ginity
So basically, I've recently started a Journalism course at uni. Well OK, not that recently. Six months ago to be exact. But my grasp of recent is pretty loose. To me, 'the other day' could be anything from today to 5 years ago. Also, I've well and truly conformed to the student stererotype and spent the last six months in one of three states:
i) Inebriated.
ii) Sleeping off effects of said inebriation.
iii) In a pro-plus enduced frenzy, desparately cramming some last minute revision.
Anyway, now I'm home for Easter, and i've decided to try my hand at this blogging malarky. I promise I will try and take my time out of my busy napping and super-noodle consuming schedule (god, i am such a cliche of a student) to update it with tales of my shenanigans, pondering the big issues in life (such as why do you never see baby pigeons? seriously.) and other things taking up my brain space.
I guess this isn't the best day to start a blog. I've done pretty much nothing. Well, that's a lie, i thought about going for a run, which is basically the same as going for one. It didn't really happen though, the con's outweighed the pro's in the end, the con's being it is raining and i don't want to go and i run like a twat, the pro's being...hmm. I've been surgically attatched to the laptop for the last few days trying to get me some work experience, which is about as easy as cracking the davinci code. I've written a few fashion articles that I'm hoping to send to a few magazines in the next few weeks. Yes, I am a member of the growing would-be Suzy Menkes army, but I can't help it. I just really want to be a fashion journalist. Ick. Hello shameless self promotion.
I had a bit of a mid-teen crisis, for want of a less cheesy phrase, this week. Had a major freak out about my course, and whether I was going to end up where I want to be at the end of it. I've never been unsure about what I want to do or how i'm going to do it before, so the fact that in two years time i'm going to be thrown into a highly competitive industry at the oh-so deep end scared me a bit. A lot. So I started looking at a few other options, mainly speech therapy. My best friends reactions were not that reassuring, namely "hahahaha Erin, you couldn't be a speech therapist, you're way too mean". Beautiful. But psychology has always been my back up, and speech therapy looked right up my street. But after a LOT of to'ing and fro'ing, frantic googling and chats with the muvs, I decided I was being a douche, and I needed to stop worrying about whether I'll get a job or not and just enjoy my course. I've wanted to be a journalist for as long as I can remember, theres no point in backing out just because I don't have guaranteed access to the bottom rung of the career ladder when i graduate. Who does? And at least I have speech therapy as a fully fledged plan B.
Sorted.
Anyway, I have lots of pressing matters to attend to.
I think Ricky Lake might be on.
i) Inebriated.
ii) Sleeping off effects of said inebriation.
iii) In a pro-plus enduced frenzy, desparately cramming some last minute revision.
Anyway, now I'm home for Easter, and i've decided to try my hand at this blogging malarky. I promise I will try and take my time out of my busy napping and super-noodle consuming schedule (god, i am such a cliche of a student) to update it with tales of my shenanigans, pondering the big issues in life (such as why do you never see baby pigeons? seriously.) and other things taking up my brain space.
I guess this isn't the best day to start a blog. I've done pretty much nothing. Well, that's a lie, i thought about going for a run, which is basically the same as going for one. It didn't really happen though, the con's outweighed the pro's in the end, the con's being it is raining and i don't want to go and i run like a twat, the pro's being...hmm. I've been surgically attatched to the laptop for the last few days trying to get me some work experience, which is about as easy as cracking the davinci code. I've written a few fashion articles that I'm hoping to send to a few magazines in the next few weeks. Yes, I am a member of the growing would-be Suzy Menkes army, but I can't help it. I just really want to be a fashion journalist. Ick. Hello shameless self promotion.
I had a bit of a mid-teen crisis, for want of a less cheesy phrase, this week. Had a major freak out about my course, and whether I was going to end up where I want to be at the end of it. I've never been unsure about what I want to do or how i'm going to do it before, so the fact that in two years time i'm going to be thrown into a highly competitive industry at the oh-so deep end scared me a bit. A lot. So I started looking at a few other options, mainly speech therapy. My best friends reactions were not that reassuring, namely "hahahaha Erin, you couldn't be a speech therapist, you're way too mean". Beautiful. But psychology has always been my back up, and speech therapy looked right up my street. But after a LOT of to'ing and fro'ing, frantic googling and chats with the muvs, I decided I was being a douche, and I needed to stop worrying about whether I'll get a job or not and just enjoy my course. I've wanted to be a journalist for as long as I can remember, theres no point in backing out just because I don't have guaranteed access to the bottom rung of the career ladder when i graduate. Who does? And at least I have speech therapy as a fully fledged plan B.
Sorted.
Anyway, I have lots of pressing matters to attend to.
I think Ricky Lake might be on.
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