When the pressure to be funny builds up, let’s go out with a bang

It’s lunchtime on a Tuesday, and I’m really enjoying my friends’ company. We’ve reached that point in our conversation where the situation has devolved into a post-Modern Family episode hilarity. I’m clutching my side, wheezing from laughter, when, all of the sudden reality slaps me like a dead fish.

It comes in the form of a friend roaring, “GOSH, I’m so funny!”

My manner is immediately composed, cool, collected— all trace of good humor gone.

To be honest, I’m not terribly funny myself. I’m not awful, though. I’ve been known to crack some good jokes, I can be sarcastic when the situation calls for it, and I love a good pun. But humor generally is not one of my greater strengths.

So maybe I’m just a cynic. Maybe I’m just jealous. But I’ve never been comfortable with people declaring their self-fulfilled affirmation of humor.

Yet it seems that everyone is convinced of his or her comedic prowess. It seems almost as though we need others to agree and assess our humorous abilities. Seeing as jokes (good ones at least,) result in laughter, this step seems redundant.

I’ve just always found the statement “I’m so funny” a little disgusting. In society, we don’t go around saying, “I’m so pretty” or “I’m so smart” unless we’re joking. Is this self-confirmation supposed to be a joke as well?

Humor—something I’ve always turned to as a release from stress or unhappiness—seems to surrounding me everywhere I go. It’s become a claustrophobic environment of funny jokes and pranks, and I don’t know how much more I can take.

I asked junior Liam Philiben, a member of the Trinity Prep Forensics team (Philiben’s credits include Humorous Interpretation pieces), his opinion of the matter.

“The lowest form of comedy is forced comedy. I hate when people are fake and try to force their jokes down other people’s throats,” he said. “Comedy, for me, is being yourself and having your own style, even if that limits your audience.”

Since when did everyone feel the need to make us laugh? I don’t know if this is exclusive to high school, but the need to be funny seems to be all consuming. Everyone wants to be witty, sarcastic, and clever. We all need a signature line, facial expression, or absurd laugh.

The natural correlation aligns humor with popularity. The role of a class clown has evolved to include a variety of merrymakers—pranksters, kidders, comedians. Being funny really doesn’t require too much strain to catapult one into popularity. Think about it. Good athletes are respected because they work hard to achieve their physical goals. Good students are renown for meeting similarly challenging academic goals. In comparison, being funny requires little to no effort, but oftentimes yields the same result.

I feel that some people maintain their humorous persona because they are expected to be. What would happen if Tina Fey appeared in an Oscar nominated drama? (Actually, that sounds fantastic.) But, we wouldn’t be able to view this comedienne in the same way. Likewise, we expect certain funny people in our lives to continually maintain their act 24/7. They oblige because, well, they are funny. Everyone thinks so. They think so. If they were to stop, who knows what could happen?

Philiben remembers the pressure. “I remember I was the reigning class clown—or at least thought I was—in [eighth grade] Civics, but after a while, I just got tired of it. I’d rather crack a joke because the timing is ripe for it, not because I’m expected to.”

Philiben tries not to define himself by his humor. “I think I used to rely on comedy a lot more in the past, when I tried to build my personality around it,” he said. “Now it’s just a thing I do unconsciously.”

Analyze the qualities of a quality joke. A really good joke, not just one that garners guffaws needs to witty and pithy. It has to appeal to a wide variety of people and avoid offense. It helps if it is relevant to the situation at hand. And the kicker? It has to still make people laugh. That’s a lot of pressure to maintain for a minute, not to mention a lifestyle.

Another thing that bothers me? The majority of humor—in television, movies, and day-to-day conversations—is offensive. Racist and sexist jokes dominate most comedy routines. Why do we laugh at this? Are we awful people that enjoy the misery at the expense of others? I don’t think so—perhaps we laugh because of the sheer awkwardness of the situation. Maybe the basis of the joke is truly funny, and the offensive elements simply add controversy and depth. Either way, we accept offensive humor as normal—and that’s not okay.

Philiben disagrees. “Offensive jokes are all about context. [They] are usually used for shock value more than anything, though they get tiresome if you build your entire repertoire of comedy on them. By then, you either come off as a bigot or as a lazy comedian—or both.”

I am irked by the sexism of humor itself. Girls have not and still do not possess the same comedic liberty that men do. The most hailed female comedy movie is probably Bridesmaids, written by the illustrious Kristen Wiig. I was excited to watch the movie, proud of my gender’s impact on the comedy world. I was severely disappointed. The movie was a string of lewd jokes and sexual innuendos, nothing like the quality humor I had hoped for.

Also, the movie was dubbed, “The female version of The Hangover.” Women can’t even be funny without modeling it on a man’s work.

Meanwhile, sexist humor itself poses a threat. According to a study published by Western Carolina University, sexist humor plays a negative role in social interactions. Unsurprisingly, men who employ such humor believe that sexist behavior is acceptable in society.

I’m not an angry person. I’m not trying to bring gloom and doom to the world. I like humor. I love laughing. I’m sure you are all wonderfully funny people. Just don’t tell me about it.