Laugh Like You're Dumb

The raven stared down upon the two hillbilly gangsters like a judge in his bench giving a lengthy prison sentence. The wasteland was the perfect place to dispose of a dead body since nobody came out here and the heat would cause the corpse to decompose faster. The only witnesses to this crime were the stoic raven and the leafless tree it stood upon. The two rednecks used shovels to dig a shallow grave for their fallen victim: a beautiful young girl in a bloodstained white dress. Even in death, she still had ropes bound around her body and duct tape over her mouth, the latter of which prompted one of the murderers to tell a joke.

“Hey, Billy-Bob, how do you start a conversation about rape? Peel the tape off of the victim’s mouth!” The sociopaths weren’t the only ones who got a good chuckle out of it. A college student named Daniel Jason let out an uncomfortably long hyena howl to where his ribs and back were both aching. And then everything went black and a pause symbol manifested itself on the screen.

The classroom lights went up and Daniel was slowly coming down from his laughter spell. The entire class, including the elderly teacher Jonathan McAvoy, stared at him with fire in their eyes and downward eyebrows. As the final few chuckles departed from Daniel’s belly, the blond-haired frat boy looked around and shrugged his shoulders. “What? What’s everyone looking at me for?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Jason, why is everybody looking at you?” asked the white-haired and fuzzy-bearded Mr. McAvoy rhetorically. “Would somebody like to explain to him why we’re all staring at him in disbelief? Oh, Miss Miller, how about you?”

“Sure, I’d love to,” said the short pink haired Christie Miller. She cleared her throat and said, “You know, Daniel, the reason we’re all staring holes into you right now is because you laughed at something nobody ever should. There’s nothing funny about rape or murder. It’s demoralizing, it’s traumatizing, and it’s the most violent thing you could do to another human being.”

“Give me a break, lady!” said Daniel while throwing his hands up defensively. “Why do you feminists have to ruin everything for the rest of us? We can’t laugh at anything anymore because it might be offensive to someone else. What happened to us? What the hell’s going on here?!”

“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” said Mr. McAvoy as he walked up to Daniel’s desk and placed his palms on the surface while glaring at his student. “This isn’t about political correctness or artistic license. Over the years, some of us, not you included, have learned a simple philosophy that everyone should adopt: basic human decency. In other words, we’re supposed to treat each other like we ourselves want to be treated. Suppose a real life rape victim heard you laughing at that joke. Then what? Are they just supposed to ‘cowboy up’ and take it?”

“Yes! You’re damn right they should!” shouted Daniel back at his teacher, who then backed up a few steps. “I don’t have to dumb down my sense of humor just because there are pussies and wusses in this room! Nobody tells me what I can and can’t laugh at!”

Christie shot up from her seat and retorted, “Fine! Then you don’t get to tell the rest of us what to laugh at either! That means if you slip on a banana peel and smash your head open on the floor, the entire class is allowed to laugh at you because that would pretty much be the same thing as America’s Funniest Home Videos!”

Daniel chuckled sarcastically and said, “Please. You’re missing the whole point of America’s Funniest Home Videos, Crusty. They’re funny because they’re happening to somebody else. Of course it wouldn’t be funny if it happened to me.”

“Congratulations, Mr. Jason, you’ve proven to everyone in this class that you’re not capable of having empathy for others,” said the film studies teacher as he folded his arms. “You know who else doesn’t have empathy for others? Bullies, serial killers, rapists, animal abusers, basically the entire sewage system of our society. You wouldn’t happen to be one of those people, would you, Mr. Jason?”

Daniel scrunched his face and shrugged his shoulders in confusion while saying, “What the hell are you talking about?! Laughing about rape isn’t the same as condoning it! I don’t go around raping random women because I want a good laugh!”

“I’d really like to believe that, Daniel,” said Christie in a low, but tense voice. “I’d like to believe that you’re just a good person with a twisted sense of humor. Those people do exist. But then I go back to the other things you’ve said today, about how feminists are ruining everything and victims of abuse should just toughen up. How are any of us supposed to trust you knowing what kind of stances you take?”

“And just so you know, Daniel,” said Mr. McAvoy. “Feminists aren’t ruining anything in this country. If it wasn’t for them, women wouldn’t have the right to vote, they wouldn’t have the right to divorce their husbands, they wouldn’t have the right to embark on their own careers, basically, they’d still be second class citizens. In some ways, they still are and it’s all because of people like you who perpetuate that ignorant attitude we’re supposed to be fighting.”

During the last few seconds where he was being berated, Daniel sat at his desk looking down at his shoes while his anger boiled over in the form of shaking and heavy nose breathing. He finally pounded the desk with open palms and shouted, “That’s it! I’ve had just about all I can take of you stupid bastards! I’m leaving! If you’ll all excuse me, I’m going to the cafeteria to cool down! I’m going to eat a ham sandwich and watch Anthony fucking Jeselnik on my iPhone! And if none of you like that, you can all go straight to hell! Fuck you guys, I’m out of here!”

Daniel shoved his desk to the ground and flipped the entire class the double birds before picking up his backpack and stomping out of the classroom. “Don’t plan on coming back!” yelled Mr. McAvoy before he received an extra middle finger from the hissy-fit-throwing frat boy.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m really sorry about Mr. Jason’s behavior,” said Mr. McAvoy. “I’ll make sure he’s never allowed to set foot on this campus ever again. We don’t need that kind of ignorance in a place that’s supposed to be about education.”

“No!” yelled Christie while holding up a flat palm. After a brief moment of silence, she said, “Don’t expel him just yet. He may be a sexist pig, but he’s not completely without empathy. If you’ll all excuse me…I’m going to go give him some!”

It had been a whole half hour since Daniel Jason stormed out of Jonathan McAvoy’s film studies class. The frat boy sat at a table in the cafeteria by himself munching on a ham sandwich and watching dark comedian Anthony Jeselnik on his iPhone, just like he said he would. Every demented joke to come out of Anthony’s mouth made Daniel chuckle with delight and forget about the humiliation he suffered in the classroom.

And then the familiar throat-clearing sound got his attention. He looked up from his iPhone and saw Christie Miller standing across the table from him and smiling while waving. “Jesus H. Christ, Christie, what do you want? Are you here to tell me that I just offended a bunch of Christians by saying Jesus H. Christ? Those religious assholes say it all the time and nobody gives them shit about it.”

Still with a roguish smile on her face, Christie brushed her dyed pink hair back and said, “Relax, big boy, I’m not here to chastise you. I just wanted you to meet my new best friend. He’s into the same things you are and you two would really hit it off. Maybe you could let him into your little fraternity.”

Daniel suddenly felt a hard slap on his broad right shoulder as a muscular black arm was wrapped around him in an affectionate way. Daniel gulped a huge wad of saliva and shook nervously as he saw the big black football player standing over him with a seductive grin on his face. “Now hold on there, partner!” said the black dude. “Your ass is about to get some sweet Texas loving!”

The frat boy stared into his offender’s eyes with horror on his face and a quivering lip. He could barely get out a frail, “Uh-oh” before he shot up from his seat and tried to bolt out of the cafeteria in one piece. He didn’t get too far. He banged his knee on one of the tables and collapsed to the ground holding his knee, prompting everybody in the cafeteria, Christie and her “new friend” included, to laugh until their ribs ached.

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” yelled Daniel as he rolled around on the ground clutching his knee. They didn’t shut up. They grew louder in their donkey laughs, causing him to have a tear roll down his cheek.

As soon as Christie and her new friend got their back-splitting laughter out of their systems, the pink-haired student pulled out her wallet and handed the football stud a wad of twenty dollar bills. “Keep your money, baby,” he said. “That kid’s sweet little ass is payment enough!”

The Simpsons Treehouse of Horror

SERIES TITLE: The Simpsons Treehouse of Horror

GENRE: Animated Horror Comedy

RATING: TV-PG for strong violence, mild language, black humor, and disturbing moments

GRADE: Pass

Anytime I browse the internet looking for a conversation about The Simpsons, it seems as though there’s always a raucous debate going on about whether or not the animated series is funny. People say it was funny in the 90’s but not after that. Others say it stood the test of time. Something definitely happened to the series when time transitioned from the 1990’s to the 2000’s and 2010’s. The style of humor is different, that’s for sure. But the one thing about The Simpsons that will remain a constant is the yearly Halloween episodes aptly called The Treehouse of Horror series.

In a regular Simpsons episode, you can expect zaniness and quirkiness throughout all 30 minutes. In a Treehouse of Horror episode, you’d better be wearing dark pants with a diaper underneath. Every episode is 30 minutes of something TV Tropes calls Nightmare Fuel. May God send a lightning bolt through my body if I’m lying. My skin isn’t crispy and my hair isn’t black, so I must be telling the truth.

The Nightmare Fuel begins with the music. During the opening sequence, the regular Simpsons theme is done in a slow and creepy whistle with dramatic symphonic music in the background. During the closing credits, the music is faster and closer to the real Simpsons theme, but it’s done with the creepy whistle yet again and this time either a church organ or harpsichord, depending on the episode. While you’re listening to this music, you somehow get the feeling there are monsters in your house waiting to chomp you like spaghetti and meatballs. It’s a haunted feeling and you will be disturbed by it.

After the end credits are over, we go to the Gracie Films logo. The variation differs from episode to episode, but it’s generally always been the same. Instead of a gentle shushing noise, it’s a woman giving off a high-pitched, blood-curdling death scream. Instead of a soothing electric piano, the Gracie Films theme is played on a church organ and in a minor key. Every year when I watch the end credits, my heart races and my blood goes cold in anticipation for this Gracie Films spoof. It’s that creepy.

The couch gags from the first ten Treehouse of Horror episodes are nothing to be comfortable around either. They started using couch gags in the third annual episode, which showed The Simpson family as skeletons. The episode after that showed them as bloodthirsty zombies. The sixth Treehouse of Horror might be the scariest as it shows the Simpsons being lynched with their necks snapped and their eyes crossed. When the next shot after the couch gag shows opening credits on the TV, it puts the point of view directly in front of the monstrous versions of the Simpson family. Which means they’re right behind you. If you don’t have your head on a swivel, you’re going to be zombie chow. Watch your back before Bart plants a dagger in it or Homer takes a bite out of your shoulder.

These aspects of the show are scary enough on their own. But let’s not forget the bulk of every episode is the three stories within them. These episodes are so bloody and gory that you’ll need a rowboat to navigate the sets. The monsters are so ugly and hideous that you might die of vomiting yourself dry before they get a chance to eat you. That zany and ridiculous humor you were counting on in the regular episodes? We’re getting a little darker with that, so dark that Anthony Jeselnik, George Carlin (RIP), and Daniel Tosh would all need Xanax to combat their nightmares. Good thing dark comedians have a high salary, because it’s all going to therapy.

Commonsense would dictate that anybody who wants to have a functioning heart or a hair color other than white would stay away from these episodes of The Simpsons. Every year, these episodes disturb the shit out of me, more so than any legitimate horror movie like Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13^th, or Poltergeist. If you can take a whacky comedy series and turn it into a Nightmare Fuel station, you’ve got some serious skills. Despite being horrified by these episodes, I look forward to them every year and I sit down to watch them. I will say this, though: despite receiving a passing grade tonight, the Treehouse of Horror franchise went from being horrifying to darkly funny over the past two plus decades. There is some legitimacy in that argument. But you know what? I always keep my black athletic pants in my closet for such an occasion.

"Brain Droppings" by George Carlin

Seeing as how “Brain Droppings” is a collection of George Carlin’s greatest hits, it’s only fitting that instead of a full-scale review, I give a few samples of his work. Starting with…

Which is more immoral? Killing two 100-pound people or killing 300-pound person?

Which is taller? A short-order cook or a small-engine mechanic?

If JFK Jr. got into a taxi in New York to go to the airport, do you think he would say, “Take me to JFK?” How would he feel about that? And how does Lee Harvey Oswald’s mother feel when she walks through JFK, knowing that if she had stayed single it would probably be Martin Luther King Jr. Airport?

How can “crash course” and “collision course” have two different meanings?

Kids are now being born with syphilis and cocaine habits. There’s nothing like waking up your second day on Earth and realizing that once you kick cocaine you’re still going to have the syph. And hey, kids! If you didn’t get VD in the womb, don’t worry, you still have a shot. Some toddlers recently picked up gonorrhea at a day care center.

When a lion escapes from a circus in Africa, how do they know when they’ve caught the right one?

They said on the news that tests on monkeys showed HIV can be transmitted through oral sex. What I want to know is, who had to blow the monkeys?

Shopping and buying and getting and having comprise the Great American Addiction. No one is immune: When the underclass riots in this country, they don’t kill policemen and politicians, they steal merchandise. How embarrassing.

Since childhood is a time when kids prepare to be grownups, I think it makes a lot of sense to completely traumatize your children. Gets them ready for the real world.

I always order the International Breakfast: French toast, English muffin, Belgian waffle, Spanish omelet, Danish pastry, Swedish pancakes, Canadian bacon, and Irish coffee.

Something is dreadfully wrong in this country. There is actually an organization called Wrestlers Against Drugs, and on TV there is now a Christian weightlifting tour.

Want more? Buy “Brain Droppings”. It’s what Carlin would have wanted…whether he was dead or alive.

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“We’ve heard about battered wives and a lot of work has been done in that area. But then we started hearing about battered husbands too. There are battered husbands. This happens when the woman is really big, the man is really small, and they each drink a quart of whiskey a day.”

-George Carlin (who else?)-

Darkness and Crudeness

There’s a fine line between being dark and being crude. As someone who’s tried to experiment with the dark style all my life, I’ve crossed the blurred line several times in my career. No matter how many times I try to avoid it, somehow I keep crossing that border whenever I’m pumping out first drafts. And then I end up feeling horrible about it since there’s a slim chance I may have unintentionally offended someone. Offending people is good, but not when it’s unintentional. Here’s an example. There’s a short story in Foe vs. Blade called Choice, where an MMA fighter named Rachel Gustafson has an abortion so that she can continue to compete. When she finally has her next fight, her pro-life opponent Violet Smith compares her to Phil Garrido since abortion is allegedly the same as child abuse. Before publishing Foe vs. Blade, I removed that crude and unnecessary comment and replaced it with both fighters instead electing to go back to their corners. The DeviantART and Facebook versions of Choice still have the Phil Garrido remark, but that’s only because nobody pays attention to first drafts anyways. You can apply the darkness-crudeness continuum to your own work as well. For example, let’s say you’re going to make a joke about Cleopatra’s menstrual cycle. A calm and sensible person who still wished to be dark and offensive would phrase the joke like this: “Q: Why did Cleopatra use tampons? A: Because she was on her pyramid.” A crude and tacky person would phrase the seemingly innocent joke like this: “Q: Why did Cleopatra shove tube steaks up her fucking twat? A: Because the bitch was on her pyramid, yo!” The lesson learned here is that swearing is not always a good way to enhance your material. If all you have is swearing and no substance, you’re not going to survive the creative world. That’s why whenever I’m walking the streets of downtown Bremerton and I hear a random guy rapping about a woman “sucking a dick in less than a minute”, I cringe and try to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. The only purpose swearing and other forms of darkness serve is to make the story realistic. There are people out there who use crude language, but when writing, try to capture it in such a way that it doesn’t completely make your audience’s stomachs turn. A good example of darkness used to perfection would be Tales From the Hood. Yes, the characters love to cuss, but whenever Bulldog yells, “Where’s the shit?!” your stomach is sore not from nausea, but from laughing. Leave the nausea up to Crazy K as he gets spun around several times on a torture table while watching black people getting killed, which is apparently what he’s been doing all of his life according to Dr. Cushing. Peace! I’m out!

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“One of the side effects for these diet pills is anal seepage. If you take this pill, I don’t care how much weight you’ve lost, you ain’t looking good in them jeans.”

-Jeff Foxworthy-

"Napalm and Silly Putty" by George Carlin

George Carlin had a career that spanned multiple decades of giggles and guffaws. And now you can have the best of his routines in one single book. It’s called “Napalm and Silly Putty” and reveals the dual nature in which he thrived. The napalm represents his destructive, dark, and violent side, while silly putty represents his giggly and joyful side. Put them together and you’ve got the makings of Mr. George Carlin. This book was published in 2001. Think of all the comedy routines you’ve heard before that time and jam them into this well-written book. You’ve got his jabs against pro-lifers, his love for entropy, his reasons why certain sports shouldn’t be considered as such, his hatred for euphemistic language, and many others that not only provoke thought, but also garner hyena cackling. And then you’ve got some routines and short takes that weren’t previously in his material, my favorite out of all of the unknowns being the death wishes section. If you’re feeling really suicidal, walk through Harlem dressed in a KKK robe or go to a cult sacrifice with a crucifix and a priest collar around your neck. Not only will you have more bruises on your body than hairs on your head, but you might actually pass on to the afterlife. And then you have those short takes that he bursts into every once and a while. “An art thief is someone who takes pictures”. Think about that one for a moment. Remember his routine about not giving a shit if the pandas fuck again this year? That’s in there too. He’d have to include that one, because really, can you actually get a hard-on while some loser in a green shirt is taking your girlfriend’s rectal temperature? Leave these creatures alone! Of course, a George Carlin book wouldn’t be complete if he didn’t have a list of war statistics. You know, the number of times we’ve had “enhanced interrogations”, “terrorist attacks”, “beheadings”, and “counter-insurgencies”. There are no real stories in this book. It’s basically a compilation of his greatest routines. If you’re looking for a structured story, check out “Last Words”. But if you’re in the mood for achy ribs and a crooked spine from laughing so hard, buy this book today.

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Catholics and other Christians are against abortion and they’re against homosexuals. Well, who has less abortions than homosexuals?! Leave these fucking people alone for Christ’s sake! Here’s an entire population of people guaranteed never to have an abortion! And the Catholics and Christians are just tossing them aside! You’d think they’d make natural allies!”

-George Carlin-