A Commentary on Humor Complacency: Critiquing Colbert

Picture Source: http://www.wunderground.com/news/china-dangerous-smog-20130114

                    Amusing Ourselves to Death by Neil Postman has gotten me thinking on America’s entertainment culture and how it affects one’s ability to comprehend the severity of a situation and counteracting the situation with action.

Just this morning, cup of coffee and WhoKnew cookies in hand (I’ve upgraded from the Oreos), I discovered that my usual morning tradition, “Morning Joe,” was not on. So I decided that political satire would be a fun wake-me-up before I started my day. Little did I know exactly what type of wake-me-up I would receive.

I do not watch “The Colbert Report” and “The Daily Show” frequently. The few times I have seen them, I have thought that they are fun to watch and in general enjoyed the content. I’m not sure if I was paying attention.

There’s a segment on “The Colbert Report” called “Tip of the Hat, Wag of the Finger” where Colbert adds these motions to whatever he is commenting on. This particular episode focused on China and North Korea during the segment.

The “Tip of the Hat” was (of course, sarcastically) directed towards the Chinese government.

If you have been keeping up with China (I became aware during a debate I led stating that China would not surpass the United States as the next superpower), you know that they’re having a huge problem with air pollution because of the size of the population and amount of machinery and factories releasing exhaust into the air. 

Their economic boom is destroying their environment.

If you’re looking for a good source, The Huffington Post frequently has updates on the smog situation in China:  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/news/china-air-pollution

Colbert reported on how the Chinese government and media is handling the situation: by posting an article on the unifying effects (poor and rich breathing in the same smoke, unified by a sense of humor about the smog, etc.) of the smog and reducing the amount of alerts made about the smog in order to make the situation seem less severe than it is.

I thought it was a good thing to report on, but I certainly didn’t think it was something to laugh about. I attempted to put myself in the shoes of the Chinese people, and I cannot imagine what it would be like to be in a thick cloud of barely breathable air 24-7. 

The audience was laughing, Colbert was laughing, and I was thinking about Postman.

The delivery of this news and the lack of audience awareness made the situation seem less terrible than it actually is. I began to wonder how often this happens, and how often I fall into the same trend of laughing at things that really deserve deeper and more serious contemplation.

Obviously, many of us have little to no power to aid the environmental situation in China, particularly when we have many problems of our own to take a look at. However, I think this is a good example of how we can be blinded by humor as a sort of tranquilizer, because things such as these are painful to contemplate.

I believe looking at humor as detrimental to our society when used in the wrong way is extremely important. What do you think? 

What you probably already know about beans.

I wrote for NANOWRIMO for several hours today, and my writing abilities were exhausted. So, I tweeted, asking for a topic to blog about.

The response was obvious; I should have seen it coming. Here are several common knowledge fun facts about beans:

1.      A bean is a large plant seed

2.      Beans are a summer crop and require warm temperatures to grow

3.      There are 40,000 different bean genes out there

4.      Some raw beans contain toxins

5.      India produces the most tonnes of beans

6.      My favorite beans are coffee beans and edamame

7.      I’m not lazy; I’m just tired

Source: Wikepedia

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bean  

Bean out. DFTBeanA

How afternoon plans were developed and then arrested by torrential rain and Ron Howard.

It’s a rough day when you come home barefoot, jeans rolled up, covered in muck, dripping with sweat, and running off of ten Oreos and a cup off black coffee. Your body feels disgusting and tired, your skin soiled and stench, and your mind in a million places at once. This is what at the end of season four of Arrested Development can do to you.

Jukebox, San, and I were left staring at the blank Netflix screen with mixed feelings of admiration and disgust. At least, that is what I felt. I refuse to be the source of spoilers but any fully fledged AD fan knows what I’m talking about. We were rambling, rambling….

“There has to be something else… a movie! They’ll make a movie. Or another season? They can do that, right? There has to be something else.”

Disheartened, I looked at my friends. Their eyes were distanced.

“We could walk to the coffee shop?”

“Yeah! Yeah, let’s do that!”

We stumbled down Jukebox’s hardwood stairs (or was it up?  I cannot remember. I was so distraught.), and we threw our shoes on.

Earlier I had received notice from my Padre that there was a flash flood notice. So, I knew there was a flash flood coming. I had even mentioned it to my friends. But the weather outside looked tolerable, just a little grey, so we decided to make the voyage anyway.

“I’m the only one with an umbrella, and it is tiny and broken, so it will only work for one person. Juke, do you have one here at home?”

He grinned. “Yeah, but I don’t want to carry it.”

We’re classic eighteen year old risk takers.

San had a waterproof sports jacket from our old high school that wasn’t so waterproof, but it really only was drizzling at the time, so we set off anyway.

The walk began nicely enough. We were by Lake Tashitat, a dirtied manmade thing, so the area was low sort of like a bowl from the higher hills of Massachusetts. 

It was comical how tragedy struck. The rain built steadily, so we did not notice there was a problem until the roar of torrential downpour deafened all sound, and we were shouting to hear one another. Juke’s red hoodie was soaked, and he was soon to be soaked to the bone. San was frantically handing me precious electronics to stick down my hoodie and in the pockets of my skinny jeans, so it appeared  with all my electronics and hers together as though I was spontaneously growing several phone shaped tumors (symbolic of the electronic wave-drenched times, I like to imagine.) (The parenthetical within a first person narrative seems redundant and self-serving… if a first person narrative can GET more so).

By attempting to make the sounds issuing from our mouths audible, we eventually decided to go back to Juke’s house to drop him off. Lighting began to crash, and I looked nervously up at my dinky shield from the elements.

You know, only 10% of people struck by lightning die. Thank Zeus.

We were back on Juke’s porch. His mom was laughing at our attempt to retrieve caffeine and victuals sympathetically. San and I made an agreement to head towards her house so that I could catch a ride back to the Bean cave. I was sitting on the porch peeling off my brown lace-ups and hot pink socks.

“Can I leave my shoes here?”

 I re-adjusted the plethora of electronics and set off with San following our numerous farewells and attempts to sneak past a few potentially inebriated boaters returning from summer fun on Lake Crapitash. We were barefoot and defiant against the downpour that arrested our spontaneous afternoon attempt to forget the latest and last development on our favorite show. 

The walk was brief enough, and I remember only explaining why puddles are cesspools and should not be splashed around in joyfully. You say buzz kill, but I remind you I was not struck by lightning.

I was given a ride home by San’s mom (neither of us can drive), and I stumbled into my home short my favorite shoes, my normal energy, and my dignity.

I was caught in the rain again all because Ron Howard decided to scramble my mind and my afternoon. Next entry, I’ll tell the first rain story.

Bean out.