'I don’t want to be mean. But I do believe I’m about to be terribly mean,' writes Demi Lardner. 'I’d rather dress up as a mop so they can use my tongue to clean an airport bathroom than see one more political satire sketch.'
Okay, LISTEN. Don’t be mad. I don’t want to be mean. But I do believe I’m about to be terribly mean.
My dad, a big, fat car-obsessed heart attack enthusiast, was generously taken aback when I came out to him as bisexual .Me: I mean, you know that I date girls, don’t you?Now, he was old, as old guys sometimes are. But the rest of the conversation wasn’t as cute as that little snippet. It was a bit heartbreaking, he was disgusted, I cried, and we didn’t talk for a few weeks.
The reason this story is relevant is that it’s one of the few times, in my entire life, I have ever seen someone change their minds about something big. And it took years! Plus, if he didn’t already know and love me, maybe he’d never be challenged or curious enough to consider another point of view.
The other glaring issue I have with satire is simpler. It’s just … never funny. It’s all point-making. I truly believe there is more inherent worth in the video of the spinning helicopter granny. It makes me smile! She’s spinning so fast! It’s not making a point at all except that once, a granny was exceptionally spun.The majority of modern satire ends up being somebody in a suit with a name tag on, saying out loud “I am evil and I like being evil.” That’s … not a joke, I don’t think.