Aristocratic Comedy*

* - Previously recorded, right after I had watched The Aristocrats and there was that hubbub about Mohammed and the Danish cartoon.

Nope, not a movie review. I did see the movie, and it was okay on an entertaining level, but the thing that impressed me most was the experience of watching the movie. Like looking at a piece of art and not necessarily thinking the work itself was that great but appreciating the fact that it was giving you seizures like a Japanese cartoon. The gist of the movie is this: there's a joke that comedians tell other comedians at cocktail parties and the like that is not really all that funny in and of itself, but the telling of the joke becomes an art form. The basic framework is that a performer is trying to sell his family act to a talent agent, only his act is the most vile disgusting thing ever, usually drawing the line somewhere around incestuous sodomy and crossing WAY past that line (that line is a dot to you!). The description of the act rolls on, escalating to the most absurd, revolting levels until the "family" man describes the closing bit, usually something that would make Lucifer himself raise an eyebrow. In shock, the talent agent says, "Well, um, that's certainly interesting. What do you call yourselves?" And the man replies, usually with a dramatic sweeping gesture, "The Aristocrats." That's a punchline that's really only funny on the "my dog has no nose, well how does he smell, he smells awful" level; in other words, only in an exceedingly intellectual way

So the movie consists of a slew of famous comedians telling their own versions of the joke or commenting on the mechanics of it, running the gamut from Bob Saget to Sarah Silverman to Carrot Top to Hank Azaria to Robin Williams to, geez, well, even a mime gives a version. The experience of the movie was like living through the violence-in-film inoculations of the 1990's in a 90 minute sitting; by the end, necrophilia and regurgitation seem an everyday Sunday stroll. It's really just not funny, but it is numbing - and I will say that there were a few things that made me laugh: 1, that (I think) Drew Carey once blew the joke by saying the Disney movie "The Aristocats," 2, Gilbert Godfrey's desperate but inspired telling at a Friar's Club Roast of Hugh Hefner after he (Godfrey) had bombed with a few too-soon 9/11 jokes, and 3, a couple of jazz riffs on the joke that basically inverted the situation, had an actual nice family act with juggling, pet tricks and the like going on but when the agent asks them what they're called they do the dramatic gesture and say "We're the MF***ing N***** C****."

They then hit upon the thing that I enjoyed about the film experience - that as you're sitting through this "blasphemous" stuff, you realize that on a very gut level this comedy is purely about offending you and catching you off guard, that in essence that's what all comedy is. They actually sum this up best with the good family joke: "N***** C****, I mean, that's about as bad as it gets. You can't say something more offensive, really." They then delve a bit into the fact that all comedy comes from some sense of dissatisfaction and gut-level hate, that innovation comes from going for the offensive jugular and trying to get a rise out of people, then immediately splitting crowds along "that's hilarious!" and "is nothing sacred?" lines. And that was the experience of watching that struck me - that nothing is really all that funny unless there are people that specifically think it is not funny, that a lot of laughter comes indirectly from spite. There's something implicitly mean-spirited about comedy. Okay, not really profound, but when it's stated in this context - after you've sat through one-hundred comedians dropping the pretense of "being funny" and really just trying to offend, and doing so to the extent that you come immune to their attacks - it just gives you a first-hand interactive experience of the fact that the relative offensiveness of an act, gesture or words relies completely on people deciding to be offended by it, and the humor in that relies on other people essentially finding that first group too easily offendable.

I like this topic for a number of reasons - one, I enjoy attempting to be funny. And I find that having that Chuck Klosterman "I don't care" attitude really does enable you to take a "nothing is sacred" approach, and that people will guffaw at things simply because they're outlandish and not because they are actually funny. Two, I have found that with most people I tend to befriend, there's a certain edgy angriness / cynicism that I appreciate sharing with them because it sets such a basic level of everything is funny, nothing is too personal, so let's correspondingly be able to give and take it knowing that it really doesn't mean anything other than the joke itself. I find that a lot in the Ultimate circles I travel in, where heckling one another and being "on paper" mean in a sibling kinda way is so fundamental that when people have tried to play with us who are not of that mindset, they don't really get our jive, so to speak, and they give us a lot of strange looks. I mean, you know where lines are, you don't talk about someone's momma or offspring or anything, but we're all comfortable with what may seem like a caustic atmosphere to an outsider.

Three, this is solid, present day on topic kinda stuff. Denmark and religiously offensive cartoons, anyone? On some level you have to let it bother you in order for it to bother you. The one exception that I agree with to some extent is popular opinion having undue influence on children who are maybe not sophisticated enough to grasp their right to their own opinion as well as satirical intent; so yes, it makes sense that you don't want the world at large broadcasting hateful messages at your kids that you will not be able to filter and they will not be able to distinguish from real, homegrown family values type messages. I mean, just think how you would feel if McDonalds were allowed to advertise in any way they pleased, say with cartoons and clowns and movie tie-ins, and attempt to get your kids hooked on the golden arches lifestyle for life? Wouldn't that be terrible?

I kid, I kid. There's some real value to that, there is, and if I were battling through life with my child's soul on the line, I certainly wouldn't want some jerk Danish illustrator to wield his undue influence and damn my child to eternity in hell and/or medium sized french fries. But doesn't having such a violent reaction beget more troublesome cartoons, and if you would embrace your symbols as your own sacred symbols and not cave to the implications of how your rivals choose to use them, don't you think that would strip the acts of their power?

This goes far and wide. Flag-burning, creationism, and comedy; they're all one big continuum. And the way to stave off the effects of, for example, flag-burning, is not to make laws against it, but to stop pretending that physical, fleetingly impermanent object and other impermanent beings treatment of that object has any real value *if* you choose to ignore it. Sticks and stones, anyone?

Back to the Aristocracy - watch for that aspect of comedy in the everyday. Watch for offense used as a comedic knife, and check your own ability to just simply not find it offensive. Watch how much comedy relies on a victim, and how often your enjoyment of something relies on you joining one crowd or another. Fortunately for me, on my perch up here in existential land, everything is ridiculous and funny, so when I laugh, I am doing so at the expense of no one. Or everyone. Or maybe just myself.