I’ve recently come to the conscious realization of something I’ve known subconsiously nearly all my life: I’m not funny. I can make people laugh, but only when I’m not trying. Indeed, I’ve noticed that I am my funniest when I am at my most serious. A rant, for example, elicits hearty guffaws. If I think about this–and knowing myself, I will–I am offended. My genuine feelings of annoyance and ire and yea, even affront, are cause of mirth? Seriously, people, what the fuck is that? That seems remarkably disrespectful to me!
I’ve been told by several people dear to me that my humor, when it manifests, is dry, nonsensical, and sometimes sardonic; “Bristish-ish”; and since I’m not trying to be funny (see point above), I conclude that I am naturally dry, nonsensical, sardonic and British-ish. As an American, I am offended, as well as baffled. What the hell does that–“British-ish”– mean?.
I have watched Monty Python, and Mr. Bean, and confess myself a great fan of both, but Monty Python or Rowan Aktinson, I am not! They try to be funny, and they suceed!
The irony of this post is not lost on me. I am aware that since this is a borderline rant, and that I am completely serious, I know that some of you are deriving amusement at my bemusement, and are likely laughing at me (I’m looking at you, sister dear! And you too, miss schadenfruede!). And honestly, I don’t think this post is funny at all: I’m not trying to make you laugh! I’m trying to make you feel sorry for me, damn it!
Its not right. Not right at all.