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In praise of absurdist humor
Part 1 - The formative years
I have always had an odd sense of humor. I can’t decide if it is an ingrained part of my soul or a learned trait, but as we’ll see, I lean towards the latter.
I always chuckle, laugh, and snort at the goofiest things. The sillier the better. The more outlandish, insane, or outright improbable the joke, the more I enjoy it.
Today I am going to share some of my favorite forays into this vein.
Apparently there is a technical definition for this - absurdist humor. Across the internet you’ll find various think-pieces and examinations - each trying to grapple with and define something that defies definition. Descriptors you often see are “irrational”, “illogical”, “irreverent”, “chaotic”, or “random.”
Perhaps.
What makes people laugh is a science unto itself, riddled with psychological, evolutionary, and sociological triggers. But what makes my favorite blend of humor appeal to me specifically? What makes me laugh, and how is it absurd versus traditionally funny?
Tough questions. But often the best way to define something is to share examples. So let’s start there, with some personal commentary and thoughts sprinkled in…
In thinking through this, I believe my roots began with Looney Tunes. Growing up, Saturday morning cartoons provided a highlight of the week. Amongst all the various cartoons and children’s programming, nothing tickled my fancy more than the classic antics of Bugs Bunny and friends, particularly the Chuck Jones era.
I mean, come on. Putting Elmer Fudd and Bugs in a Wagnerian Opera?
Or in the classic “Duck Amuck”, pitting Daffy Duck against the cartoonist himself, in a mind-blowing duel that breaks the fourth wall and charts new territory in surrealism and fantasy:
To an odd eight year old kid, these explorations of the absurd were like imagination steroids, fueling my brain’s development in unanticipated ways.
But there’s more…adding on to the lunacy of Looney Tunes was of course the Muppets. I can - and probably will - write about my deep abiding love for the Muppets sometime. But for now, understand that the Muppet Show came along at exactly the right time to cement the absurd into my mental circuitry. Running from 1976 to 1981, when I was ages 5 to 10, the Muppets probably cemented my laughter aesthetic. I could pull dozens of examples, but today just simply enjoy the craziness of pigs, dressed as Vikings, performing a 70’s Disco classic, while pillaging a village - on a network TV show aimed at families:
If that weren’t enough, every morning before school I would get the morning newspaper and flip to the comics section. The first panel to review, of course, was The Far Side.
It’s hard to explain today the impact and outlandishness of The Far Side to those who weren't around in the 80’s. Few things still make me belly-laugh more than an average Far Side panel, pitting cows and animals and aliens and dense humans against the most outrageous of situations:
Still at an impressionable age, I came across The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, a book that to this day ripples through the consciousness of a select group. Page for page, it’s one of the most uproarious works of art ever put to print.
Take for example the following snippets:
“…a Hooloovoo is a super-intelligent shade of the color blue.”
or…
“It's unpleasantly like being drunk."
"What's so unpleasant about being drunk?"
"You ask a glass of water.”
I mean, who comes up with something like that? A super-intelligent shade of blue? Defining ‘drunk’ from the perspective of the liquid? What twisted mind generates this…genius?
Your first reaction is laughter - but then you think about it. You ponder the implications, the new perspective, the sheer creativity. And then, you get a little angry - like “What the hell? What’s that all about? Why are you making my brain stretch into new contorted shapes to understand your joke!!?!?”
Douglas Adams comes from a storied vein of British absurdity, and thanks to the odd decision of PBS to air a certain show in the 70’s and 80’s - I got to drink from the firehose.
I am, as you might guess, talking about Monty Python.
Can you imagine the effect of imbibing Monty Python AND the Muppets at an early age? What does that do to a kid?
Take, for example, the following:
Or this classic:
For an impressionable boy in his early teens, all of this is a powerful stew. My brain was irretrievably wired by this point, there was no hope for me. But to lock things in properly and cement my tastes for life required a closer. A person so absurd, so cerebral, and so unlike any other. And he came into my life thanks to appearances on The Tonight Show, An Evening at the Improve, and HBO comedy specials…
I give you…Steven Wright:
So what is the thread in the above examples? Why makes these different?
To start, note that the laugh doesn’t come from shock value, witty puns, cleverness of observation, political insight, character traits, human relationships, or scatalogical embarrassment - all tried and true foundations for a good chuckle.
No, absurdist humor is about putting a fresh concept into the world. It’s wholly creative, original, like a lightbulb clicking on or a firecracker flooding your synapses with new stimuli.
To me, absurdist humor derives its punch from the idea. It’s conceptual, makes you think, and leaves you breathless and bewildered.
All you can do is laugh.
Coming soon, more examples of absurd humor…
Until then, go get drunk. :-)
Parting Proclamation
Witticisms and Wisdom:
Irreverence is the champion of liberty, and its only sure defense.
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Disclaimer:
All content and opinions are solely those of the author (Jack), and not representative of my employer, former employers, clients, anyone in Congress, my family, former college roommates, Baptists, the good citizens of Oregon, or my dog Mabel.