Hey, you! Yeah, you! The freak reading this newspaper — or, more likely, article on a computer. Have you ever been sad? Whatever your answer, you probably just lied. 99% of people are either always sad or never sad, according to this sentence, which means something.
I don’t like being sad. I’m not a masochist. I was going to say I’m not a little freak, but that would be a lie. “That would be a lie” is a reference to something that makes me laugh — “The Harvest,” a comedic animated short film from 2006 that you can only find on Amazon, but not in America anymore. It’s really underground. I know all the lines, and I think of them and chuckle, even though this video is just a silly little distraction from my monotonous day. But that’s also what my entire day, every day, is made of — me waiting to get that next hit of comedy.
“The Harvest” was something I watched all the time with my sisters growing up because we owned it on the family iTunes account, when that was a thing. But, way more importantly, I tee-hee when the main alien guy goes from being on a spaceship to in a padded cell and yells, “We still want your kidneys!” It’s a classic and never fails to make me laugh. A professor I had said that she liked writing things that make people laugh because if people are laughing, it means that they’re happy. I, on the other hand, love laughing, because if I’m laughing, it means that I’m happy. Right?
Literally all cool people do this. Like Rick, from “Rick and Morty,” and Bojack Horseman, from “Bojack Horseman.” They’re depressed like crazy, but they make so many quips — often at the expense of their friends and family, but it’s still funny, so who cares? As Barney from “How I Met Your Mother” said, “When I get sad, I stop being sad, and be awesome instead. True story.” And sure, some people will tell you that you need to take life more seriously and ask why you need to use humor as a coping mechanism when you already have alcohol and shawties. But to that I say, knock knock. Just kidding, knock knock jokes are only funny to three-year-olds. But you thought, for a moment, that I was going to tell one. See? Joke!
A great subcategory within using humor as a coping mechanism is one of my favorite hobbies — lying for fun. It’s not even really lying if it’s for a bit. And committing to the bit is the most humor-as-a-coping-mechanism thing there is! If someone asks you to do something, say no, then do it anyway. This literally never gets old. Make deliberate mistakes that you think are funny, and assume that everyone knows you’re doing it as a bit. They often don’t realize it’s a bit, and correct you, thinking you’re stupid. This helps you get away with saying dumber bits, because they already think you’re stupid. And they never respected you in the first place, so there’s no risk to trying any of this.
Beyond making jokes to other people — which you say is for yourself but is really only for attention and is also the only way you know how to relate to people at this point — some freaks actually do bits solely for their own amusement. Andy Kaufman, for instance, exclusively did stuff that he thought was funny. His Wikipedia bio literally says he “was an entertainer and performance artist. While often called a ‘comedian,’ Kaufman preferred to describe himself instead as a ‘song and dance man.’ He has sometimes been called an ‘anti-comedian.’” Imagine being able to refer to yourself as a song and dance man! That’s the dream!
While slightly less renowned, my dad does this, too. When he’s doing something long and monotonous and he gets a call from a telemarketer, he answers, but in character. Against my will, I’ve met Francis Frankle, an elderly woman with incontinence problems; her husband Harold, who looks for her hearing aids and Leroy Butts, “like more than one ass,” who’s an old, loud, Southern man — but then again, they’re all very loud.
He had a character die on the line, then when the same telemarketer kept calling, my dad had his estranged gay son answer, who told the caller that he was the last one to speak to his father before he passed and asked to hear his last words. Sure, they weren’t close the last couple years, but his father’s dead! He loves terrorizing the people trying to scam old people, and it makes him happy, so who am I to stop him when he’s driving and yelling about his diaper while I’m trapped in the passenger seat? Me. I try to stop him every time, but he always interrupts our conversations to answer the spam calls. He’s just a little guy. And he loves committing to the bit.
Jokes are where it’s at, folks. I believe that if you make people laugh, and laugh, as much as you can, 24/7, you will be happy. Or happier, at least. And, if you try humor as a coping mechanism and it doesn’t work for whatever reason, you can always go back to the alcohol and the shawties. Or, you can tell the shawties jokes! These strategies are not mutually exclusive. Basically, Bo Burnham for president 2K24, or something. Also, if you even did a little half sniff laugh in your nose at any point while reading this, I just made you a happier person, and you should give me financial compensation in return. I’m basically a free therapist, at least in the way that I believe in therapy — trauma dumping at the function — so, you’re welcome. OK love you bye.
Alaina McCall writes things. They would rather be a lighthouse keeper than do whatever they’re doing now. You can reach them at [email protected]